


After It's Over

by Romiress



Series: More to Being a Father than Having a Kid [7]
Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham Knight Genesis (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Batman: Arkham (Video Games) Setting, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Family Dynamics, Long Term Recovery from Trauma, M/M, Minor Tags warned in individual chapters, POV Jason Todd, Slade Wilson is a Good Parent, Slow Burn, body image issues, minimal sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-09-23 03:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 81
Words: 150,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20333101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romiress/pseuds/Romiress
Summary: Jason's never had a civilian life. For him, it was always something: From living on the streets, to being Robin, to being the Arkham Knight, to being Batman.But for the first time he's being forced to live a normal life. To be a civilian, with (almost) no secrets to keep from the world.He isn't sure if he's ready.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again! Thanks to everyone who's reading, and hopefully everyone enjoys this part. We're carrying on directly from the end of the last part.

There's no way for them to get to their cars without being swarmed, so security ushers them into city hall to wait it out. The whole place is  _ crawling _ with people, a mix of police and the building's usual security staff, and there really isn't a moment of privacy as they're moved over into a corner and asked to wait.

"You should have come up with us," Jason says quietly to Joey. "You helped, you know."

_ It was your moment, _ Joey signs.  _ I wasn't going to take that away. Everyone would have just been like 'who?' if I'd gone up. _

Jason frowns, but he can't entirely argue. He still thinks Joey (and for that matter other people who've helped in more subtle ways than putting on a mask) deserve recognition, but he's also not going to force him up onto the stage either.

Slade and Bruce excuse themselves more or less the moment everyone's settled in, narrowly missing the arrival of the mayor, who immediately scans the group.

"Did I miss them...?" He says, obviously looking for Bruce and Slade.

"You did," Dick says. "Sorry."

Andrew scans the group as if he's half expecting to find Bruce ducked behind one of them and spots Joey, staring at him in confusion before looking to Jason for an introduction.

"This is Joey," he says. "How's your ASL?"

"Atrocious," Andrew says, offering his hand for Joey to shake. "My Spanish is pretty good though."

"Joey, this is Andrew Wilson. He's Gotham's Mayor right now. He was part of Bruce's city council back when he was mayor."

_ Wilson? _ Joey signs, squinting up at Andrew, who looks down at him in confusion.

"He's Slade's like... third cousin?"

"Third cousin once removed," Andrew corrects. "Which basically means the only thing we share is a last name."

_ Are you going to tell him who I am?  _ Joey signs, and Jason shrugs as Andrew glances between the two of them.

"Joey's also a Wilson," he says. "He's a... distant relative of Slade's."

Andrew gives Joey a scrutinizing look.

"What's he actually?"

It occurs to Jason that he doesn't actually have to hide it. They're public, and even if that's a reminder he's going to need hammered into his head over and over... well, Andrew's always been a friend.

"He's from another dimension," Jason says. "So he's not really related to  _ this _ Slade at all, but it's easier than trying to explain that."

The look of surprise on Andrew's face is downright comical.

"I regret asking," he says. "Nice to meet you though."

"Jason!" He hears Roy yell, and he spins around, only  _ just _ managing to intercept Roy before he tackles him over. "Can't stay long, Barry's going to run me back home so I can show up to work looking like I just rolled out of bed for cover."

"I didn't think you'd be coming at all," Jason admits, pulling Roy into a hug. If Roy was in the audience, he missed him entirely, too focus on the crowd of Gothamites to pay much attention to the Justice League near the front.

"Big blue was going to come pick me up, but then he had too much going on. Have you guys seen..." His voice drops, leaning in conspiratorially. "The boys yet?"

"Nope," he says. He's  _ fairly _ certain that Roy's talking about the clones, and even if he's-

"Hey Jay!" Barry says, interrupting Jason's train of thought as he zips. More or less everyone is used to Barry zipping around, but Andrew jumps at the sudden arrival, making a quick excuse to get back to work as he leaves them behind. "Bruce is all kind of banged up, isn't he?"

"He'll be alright," Dick says. "He just needs to keep himself from talking."

"Harder than it sounds," Barry says as if he has any idea what it's like.

"Crap," Roy says, checking his phone. "We've got to leave like... now if we're going to make it. I'll message you when I can, alright Jay?"

It feels like they're gone too quickly, saying their goodbyes before vanishing off into the crowd. He keeps expecting to see the rest of the League joining them, but as the minutes tick by, there's no sign of Diana or the rest.

Until Clark shows up. He arrives looking far more exhausted than Jason's ever seen him looking, obviously worn down. He doesn't even settle down, instead hovering a few inches off the ground as he scans the group.

"Bruce?" He asks without even a greeting.

"Official business," Tim says. "We're waiting for him."

Clark makes a strangled noise and finally sets down on the ground.

"You look... awful," Jason says, deciding that there's no point in softening the blow. He's sure Clark knows how bad he looks. There's no way he could  _ not. _

"I haven't slept," he says. "It's been... Beyond hectic."

"You missed art class," Damian says, and Clark winces.

"I did," he says. "Sorry, things have just been-"

"We get it," Jason says, feeling a pang of sympathy. "You don't need to explain things to us. We all have a... general idea of what you've been going through."

Clones. Five clones, even if he doesn't know all the details.

_ I don't, _ Joey signs.  _ But I'm guessing we can't talk about it here? _

"No," Tim says, "probably not. I think you were helping Wintergreen when we found that out."

Clark waits with them, asking how they're all doing and making small talk, but the moment Bruce and Slade return he lifts back off the ground. Jason's been around him enough to know that  _ floating _ is Clark's way of showing his agitation, and there's no question he's agitated right then.

"Bruce," he says. "Could I speak to you for a moment in private?"

"As long as  _ private _ includes me," Slade says. "He's not allowed to talk, and last I checked you didn't know ASL."

"That's fine," he says. "The three of us will do."

Jason's  _ dying _ to find out what it is Clark wants to talk about, but knows he's going to find out soon enough anyway, so he simply tears his eyes away from the group as they split off and shifts it back to the rest of his family.

"So," he says. "What was your plan, Dick? You said you had some."

"Friend of mine runs a gym," he says. "They've been letting me use the gymnastics equipment for training, but their co-owner just shattered their hip in a car accident. They're looking to get out of it, and they asked me if I wanted in on it. I always got high marks for training new arrivals, so I thought making a job of it might be nice."

"A sensible decision," Damian says. "Will you be returning to Bludhaven...?"

"Have to," he says. "I've got too much going on up there, and no offense but I'd like to dodge as much of the paparazzi as possible."

"Can't blame you," Tim says with a sigh. "Looks like a madhouse out there."

"What about you?" Dick asks, turning to Tim and Barbara. "Damian and Jason will be just fine, but you two..."

"Warned my boss last night," Barbara says. "He's willing to ride it out based on the grounds that it never interfered with my work before."

"I've got their backing," Tim says. "I helped as Robin during a field trip at one point, so they're willing to stand by me. I think they're considering sticking it on a brochure that they had the Robins in attendance."

"They sh-" Jason starts, only to cut himself off when he spots Bruce, Clark, and Slade returning.

"Are you all coming back to the house?" Slade asks, eyes sweeping across Dick, Tim, and Barbara.

"Not unless you need me to," Dick says. "Going back home as soon as I can."

"We need to pick up Jackson," Barbara says. "And then we'll see how the news is handling it. I don't want to go back to our place if we're going to get swarmed, but we  _ do _ have work tomorrow."

"God," Tim mutters under his breath. "Don't remind me. I've got the school at my back, but I am  _ not _ prepared for my student's reaction to all this..."

"Alright," Slade says. "I'll leave it up to you, Dick. We do have some things to discuss, but if you're-"

"I'll come," Dick says. "I can spare an hour or two. I'm more concerned about how we're getting out of this building right now."

"I need to get going," Clark says, clapping Bruce on the shoulder and earning himself a wince. "Let me know, alright?"

"Of course," Bruce says, and Clark gives him a nod before heading off.

_ Let's get out of here, _ Joey signs, and it's obvious everyone has the same sentiment.


	2. Chapter 2

The trip back to the house is not enjoyable. Getting to their cars is difficult, and there's a swarm of news trucks sitting right outside their gate, obviously eager to slip inside. The most obvious thing once they are inside isn't the trucks, but the lack of them: despite the fact that the manor should be under construction, there's no sign of any work trucks once they're past the gates.

"Concerning," Slade mutters under his breath as they head inside.

They find Alfred and Wintergreen in a living room, watching a children's TV show with Jackson. Wintergreen's not actually watching so much as he's watching the manor's security feeds, and he glances back to them when they arrive.

"We had to kick the construction crew out," he says. "Caught them trying to break into the batcave. Apparently they saw the news."

"A pain," Alfred says as Jackson darts over to Tim to be picked up. "But I'll more carefully screen and observe the team coming tomorrow."

"We just need to talk to everyone," Slade says. "Maybe down in the cave...?"

"How everyone is everyone?" Barbara asks.

"I'd say everyone here," Slade says with a wave of his hand. "Maybe Jackson can watch something on your tablet with a headset on to keep him from overhearing."

Jackson makes it clear he's listening right then, his head tipping back as he looks up at Slade with a wide grin.

Barbara's obviously prepared, because once they're down in the cave she settles Jackson into her lap, handing him a tablet and pulling a headset over his ears to distract him from the conversation.

_ Slade isn't allowed to talk anymore, _ Bruce signs, clearly relieved that (almost) everyone is fluent.  _ Or at least not give speeches. _

"I did just fine," Slade says. "Everyone liked it but you."

"Only because Jim saved us," Tim says. "Don't give yourself credit for what he did."

_ I know Dick's on a time limit,  _ Bruce signs.  _ So I'll get right into it. We have a few things to cover before I get to the important bit. _

Jason can think of a half dozen things they need to talk about, and he's dying to know what the hell's going on. Even if they're  _ retired, _ that doesn't mean he doesn't want to know what's going on with everything else.

"Luthor?" He says.

_ Either arrested or about to be at the airport. FBI is intercepting him as he lands, _ Bruce signs.  _ The judge was significantly impressed enough to sign a batch of warrants.  _

"What are they charging him with?" Tim asks, arms folded across his chest. "How much do they know?"

"The mercenary team transporting his payload has agreed to cooperate," Slade explains, and Jason feels a rush of relief. "It would be hard to charge them with anything, considering nothing they did was actually  _ illegal, _ and they surrendered without so much as a single shot fired. I'm not sure it'll connect back to Lex, but if nothing else it should help paint a clearer picture."

"Oh," Jason says, glancing to Joey. "The  _ payload _ was five clones of Clark."

_ Five? _ Joey signs, looking confused.

"Five," Slade confirms. "There was some debate about what to do with them, but Clark put his foot down. They were woken up midday yesterday, which partially confirms that Lexcorp was involved in this, which is illegal. So that's at least one clone. The difficulty is proving that Lex himself was personally involved in all this."

_ I'm not sure it is, _ Joey signs, waving to draw attention.  _ There were multiple clones or attempted clones back in my world. Are these like, weird adult clones, or...? _

"Teenagers, approximately," Slade says. "They weren't finished growing. The plan seems to have been for them to grow until they were Clark's age and then be decanted."

"Is that important?" Dick asks, looking to Joey.

_ Depends. Do they look like Conner? _ Joey signs back.

"I'll get Clark to send a picture," Slade says, pulling out his phone. "He had some trouble containing them when they were first woken up, and now he's trying to... help them settle in. As you can imagine, he's having trouble with it."

"I have a more pressing question," Tim says. "What's happening with Thomas? Because that has  _ not _ been in the news."

Bruce takes a deep breath, and Jason braces himself.

_ It's an ongoing situation, _ he signs.  _ There are concerns about protests or even riots if people discover who was killed, let alone who killed her. Diana and Trevor are handling it, and they want us to be hands off for the first few days. _

"I don't like it," Damian says. "We should be able to see him."

_ We will, _ Bruce says.  _ But they're strongly considering classifying the whole thing the same way they classified what happened with the Court of the Owls. There's nothing to be gained by revealing what happened to the public, and a lot to lose. _

"So we might get him back?" Damian asks, and Bruce's lips press together unhappily.

"I don't-" He starts, getting a pinch to his arm from Slade before he reverts back to signing.

_ I don't know, _ Bruce signs.  _ Diana is doing what she can. _

"Please at least tell me Thomas is dealing with Trevor rather than her," Jason says. He can't imagine how things would go otherwise.

"Diana's dealing with the government, Trevor's dealing with Thomas," Slade confirms. "We'll figure something out. We just have to sit tight."

"Please give me some kind of good news," Dick says. "Please?"

"Sure," Slade says. "Clark asked Bruce and I to be godparents to his new boys."

"Nnnnnice?" Tim says slowly, obviously uncertain. "That's good, right?"

"Means he trusts us," Slade says. "But..." He glances to Bruce, who sighs.

_ Clark lives in a three bedroom apartment, _ he signs.  _ And now has eight people living in it. He had them stacked like sardines, and the alternatives are poor. Neither his parents nor Lois's have enough space for all of them, and he doesn't want to split them up, either. _

"We have space," Damian points out as if that wasn't clearly what Bruce and Slade were already going for. "They could stay here."

"We have enough rooms for them," Slade says. "But it's not a long term thing. Clark asked if we could house them while he tries to figure out an alternate housing arrangement."

_ I want to move them into the old Whit house,  _ Bruce signs.  _ It's been up for sale for months, and it's move-in ready. _

"Where is that, exactly?" Barbara asks, her arms too full with Jackson to look it up.

"Close enough to walk to from here," Dick says. "I played with their grandkids a few times, but they sold the house to move to Texas or something like that. I think it's got enough rooms?"

"But it would mean the Kent's moving out of Metropolis," Tim points out.

"They don't really have another choice," Slade says. "Metropolis is apartments, penthouses, and small single family homes. It doesn't have enough space for an eight person family, and there's no way they'll have any privacy there. The Whit house backs onto the same forest we do, and would give them a fair amount of privacy in terms of flight."

Jason knows the Kents well enough to not ask  _ can they afford it, _ because the answer is  _ absolutely fucking not. _ The Whit house isn't quite as large as the manor, but it's still a  _ giant fucking house, _ and it's well outside their budget.

So instead he asks a more important question.

"If you buy them the house, are they going to accept it?"

Slade snorts in response.

_ I guess I'm becoming predictable,  _ Bruce signs.  _ I don't think they would in other circumstances, but Clark's at the end of his rope. He needs stability for them, and he isn't going to find it there. I'm going to more heavily push for the commuter bridge they've been talking about, but realistically he can fly Lois in for work as needed. _

"So... no, but he doesn't have much of a choice," Tim says.

"More or less," Slade says. "We haven't told him about that part. He's still tearing his hair out trying to figure out where they're sleeping tonight, but we said we'd have to ask all of you. So... any objections?"

"Not an objection," Alfred says, "but I will point out that it will be necessary to relocate them while the construction team is here. We have perhaps one or two more days of work before I can manage the rest myself."

Damian's bouncing in his seat.

"Is Jon going to come then?"

"No," Slade says. "He'll come visit, but he's not going to live here. He'll need to pack his things up to move, assuming they accept. With the sixth bedroom under construction, we don't have enough room unless they start sharing."

The seventh bedroom—the one Clark and Lois would be going in if the whole family was going to stay—still has Thomas's things in it, and Jason is pretty sure that no one wants to cross that line right then. They still want to believe that he's coming back. That he'll be home soon.

Even if he probably won't.

"Alright," Dick says. "Anything else, or should I take off?"

_ That's it, _ Bruce signs.  _ I'll keep you up to date on what's going on, but it's going to be a lot of back and forth while they try and stack the case against Luthor so he can't squirm out of it. _

"I don't think I need to remind anyone," Slade says, "but no interviews. Even if we're public, lets keep from making a spectacle of ourselves."

"Ruining all the fun," Dick says with mock exasperation.

"I'm going to go let Clark know," Slade says. "Alfred, I don't know how much they'll have with them. Could you make sure the bathrooms are all stocked with toiletries and other essentials...?"

"Of course," Alfred says. "I think I may start doing some early preparations for dinner, since it seems we'll be having a large group."

Everyone heads upstairs, but Jason isn't so quick to go. Instead, he waits for everyone to be gone and then seeks out his armor, still untouched since he last wore it, and digs into the bag at the waist to retrieve Bane's bear.

He jumps, his heart in his throat, when a hand touches his shoulder, but when he spins it's only Bruce, and he shoves the bear behind his back, suddenly self conscious.

_ Barbara doctored the tapes for you, _ he signs.  _ So there's no sign of where it went. _

It takes him a second to realize he means the bear, and he's sure the embarrassment is written all over the face.

"I don't know why I did it," he says. "It just seemed wrong-"

_ I know, _ Bruce signs.  _ I won't lecture you for it. _

He pauses, then reaches out to rest his hand on Jason's shoulder, making him go still.

"I trust you have your reasons," he says, his voice quiet as he makes a clear attempt to speak without moving his jaw much. It comes out a bit muffled, but Jason appreciates the effort and very nearly pulls Bruce into a hug before he catches himself.

"Oh right," he says. "Broken ribs. Probably a bad idea."

_ Probably a bad idea, _ Bruce signs with a lopsided grin. Jason's pretty sure he's not supposed to be doing  _ that  _ either, but he isn't going to fault him for a moment of humor, rare as it is right then.


	3. Chapter 3

There's at least one thing they didn't deal with, so once he's safely tucked the bear away in his room out of sight he goes to find Joey. He isn't all that hard to find—he's helping Alfred with some food prep—but he seems surprised that Jason's looking for him, cleaning his hands before stepping away.

_ What's up? _ He signs, looking more confused by the second.

"You mentioned something," Jason says, "but I don't think we ever got to hear what it was. You were asking about like... the kind of clone?"

Joey blinks at him, obviously confused, and then the realization dawns on him.

_ Oh right, _ he signs.  _ Apparently Kryptonians are very hard to clone, at least in my world. I don't know if things are the same here, but there have always been issues. _

"Issues?" Jason asks. "Like...?"

_ They die, _ he signs.  _ Or become corrupted. Or fall apart. The only successful clones I'm aware of are human-Kryptonian hybrids. _

"So you think they aren't real Kryptonians...?"

_ Hybrids like Jon, _ he signs. There's a bit of hesitation there, and Jason feels a flutter of nervousness.

"What?" He says. "What aren't you saying?"

When Joey answers, his signs are precise, but clearly nervous.

_ You know this world's Superman better than I do, _ he signs.  _ Do you think he'd reject the clones if he found out they weren't... all his? _

"No," Jason says. It's not a question. Clark's a good person, and the idea of him  _ rejecting _ a clone just because they weren't 100% him seems insane.

_ Even if they were half Luthor? _ Joey signs, and Jason doesn't answer immediately.

He knows Clark doesn't like Luthor. For that matter, no one likes Luthor. But at the same time...

"I think... he'd still take them," he says. "I don't think he'd reject them for that. Even if it would probably be... a thing."

He makes himself take a deep breath, wrapping his head around that. About the fact that... well, the fact that they're  _ half Clark, half Luthor. _

"And people make jokes about  _ my _ dads..." Jason mutters under his breath, and Joey cracks up in response.

_ Are you trying to kill me with that? _ Joey signs.  _ Honestly, you do act a lot like them. I think a lot of people have spent their time wondering which of the two you're the biological son of. _

It's such a small, silly thing, but the idea of it makes him happy in a way he has a hard time expressing. The idea that he's so like his dads that people can't figure out which one he's related to.

Joey's grinning at him, and Jason realizes he's probably either blushing or grinning like an idiot and quickly looks away.

"We should probably tell Bruce and Slade," he says. "Before they-"

There's a frantic round of barking from Titus as the security system goes off, signaling multiple fliers arriving.

"So much for that," Jason says with a sigh.

The view out the back window isn't the weirdest thing Jason's ever seen, but it's pretty up there. Clark's there along with Jon, both in civilian clothes, and with them are five identical young men. They look to be around sixteen, and even if Joey  _ just _ introduced the concept that they might be something other than one hundred percent Clark, it's still hard to see them as anything other than younger Clarks. The same dark hair. The same bright blue eyes.

"Inside," Clark says, making shooing motions towards the herd of young men. "We should be fine here, but I don't want anyone getting lucky."

"Hi Damian!" Jon yells, zipping over to where Damian stands in one of the other doorways, gawking.

"Clark," Slade calls, pulling open the back door into one of the ballrooms. "In here."

Jason and Joey head towards where Slade is, running into Bruce on the way. The ballroom is large, with plenty of open space, and it keeps things from getting too crowded with an extra seven people piling in. The clones are clustered together, and up close Jason can see more clearly what they're wearing: identical white jumpsuits. The only differentiation between them are colored wristbands in bright, obvious colors.

"Boys," Clark says, turning to address the pack. They turn to look at him, their expressions clearly apprehensive. "These are your godparents, Slade and Bruce." He gestures, and five pairs of eyes flick over to look at the two of them. "I'm sure you noticed we didn't have enough room at our place. They've agreed to let you stay here while we try and get that sorted out so you can all have your own beds."

Clark is  _ very _ clearly trying his best, but it's also clear he's not  _ entirely _ getting through to the boys in front of him.

"We actually wanted to talk to you about that," Slade says, his eyes sliding over to Clark. "Bruce had a solution that might work for you."

_ "Please,"  _ Clark says desperately. "Anything, at this point. My parents offered to come help, but I literally don't have room for them."

"Of course," Slade says. "Jon, boys, can you show them their rooms? Do introductions?"

"Sure," Jason says, realizing that it's going to be Jon, Damian, and him. Joey's almost entirely out, because there's almost no chance they're going to be fluent in ASL.

Alfred and Wintergreen are nowhere to be seen, and Jason's not sure if they're busy or just giving them space.

"So," he says as Slade, Clark, and Bruce exit the room. "I'm Jason. This is Joey, and this is Damian."

"This is Titus," Damian says, scratching Titus between the ears.

All five clones stare right back at them, and Jason sighs, dragging his hand down his face.

"Do we even know if they talk...?" Jason says quietly. It's entirely possible that they  _ don't, _ because they're... what, three days old? Two?

"They talk!" Jon says. "They're just nervous."

Jon flies right over, hovering just above eye level with the clones.

"They're really nice," he says, chatting a mile a minute. "I swear. Damian's like my best friend ever, and his brother's really nice, and Joey seems good too! Plus Bruce and Slade are great, and they have a Butler who makes like, the best fruit tarts ever!"

"Sooo," Jason says. "Why don't you do introductions, Jon?"

"Oh right!" Jon says. "Dad said it would probably be better if they picked their own names, but we needed a way to tell them apart, so they've got colors instead."

_ They don't have names?!  _ Joey signs frantically, and Jon looks to Jason in confusion.

"Joey thinks they should have names," he says. "But I guess that's up to your parents."

"Maybe I should name them," Jon says, looking over the still silent group. "Mom said that dad should because he knows all about Kryptonian customs, but dad said it took him six months to come up with  _ my _ name, and he couldn't just come up with things on the fly."

Oh boy.

"How do Kryptonian names work?" Damian asks, and Jon offers a shrug.

"No idea," he says. "Dad's Kal-El, and his dad was Jor-El, so I guess I'd be... Jon-El?"

_ The El is from the house of El,  _ Joey signs.  _ Which is Superman's family. _

"Hmmm," Jon says, inspecting the boys. "Do they have to have three letters? Alright. You can be  Red-El, Ora-El, Yel-El, Gre-El, and Blu-El."

"Those sound terrible,' Damian says.

Jason buries his face in his hands. This is a  _ disaster,  _ and Joey's too busy laughing himself silly to help.

"Alright," he says. "Please help me Joey. You know... this stuff. Kryptonian stuff."

_ Not even close, _ he signs.  _ It's not like I was best buds with Superman. _

"Okay," Jason says. "Ren-El, Oru-El, Yem-El, Gra-el, and... Blu-el."

"You didn't change the last one," Damian says.

"Bla, Ble, Bli, Blo. Blu sounds the best," Jason says, trying not to sound too defensive.

"I like them!" Jon says.

"Doesn't matter if you like them," Jason points out. "What matters is if  _ they _ like them. I just thought they might want names that aren't... you know, colors."

"I like it," the one with the red bracelet says, breaking the silence.

"I don't," the yellow one says. "Yem? Really?"

Jason's a bit too relieved they're talking to be worried about them taking issue with his naming choices.

"I like Ore," the orange one says. "I'm going with Ore."

"Is that allowed?" the blue one says, craning his neck around to look at Jason like  _ he's _ the one in charge.

"Sure," he says. "I don't see why not."

There's a big of squabbling between the clones over names, and Jason catches sight of yellow and blue swapping bracelet discretely like they're worried they're going to get caught.

"Alright," Jon says. "Names?"

"Ren, Ore, Yen, Gar, and Blue," Ren says. Of all of them, he seems to be the one that's the most assertive. Almost defensive of his brothers.

"Neat!" Jon says. "Dad's going to be excited!"

Jason's  _ pretty _ sure Jon's dead wrong, but he's not going to kill the kid's enthusiasm.

"Alright," he says. "Why don't we show you your rooms? You're just going to be staying in the guest wing, and you'll all have your own rooms."

Jason can't help but feel that the whole thing is like  herding cats, only  _ cats _ aren't capable of punching through walls if something goes wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

For all of Jason's concerns, it's actually not too hard to get the boys into their own rooms. Mostly he just takes them to the guest wing, points out the five rooms (the one at the end of the hall is already locked, and the damaged one is blocked off), and tells them to take their pick. From there, he stands back and lets them sort it out themselves.

It helps him get a general sort of feel for each of the boys. Even if they're clones, there's already some slight variations between them. Ren seems to be the most confident of the lot, and when someone asks anything of the boys he answers for them. The one with the blue bracelet is far more cautious than the others, while Ore is somewhere between brave and curious, popping his head into each of the rooms to make sure they're all the same.

"Kind of wish I was staying here," Jon says. "Dad says I have to go back to school tomorrow though. If I'm gone too long, people are going to get curious."

"You should simply test out of school," Damian says. "Then you won't have to worry about it."

"I like school," Jon says. "And I've got friends there."

He pauses for a moment, and then lets out a groan.

"I just realized I can't even tell them about my brothers..." He says, and the closest of the clones, Yen, pauses to stare at him.

_ How much have they even been told? _ Joey signs, and Jon looks to Damian for a translation.

"He wants to know what they know about themselves," Damian says, but rather than Jon answering, Yen jumps in.

"They told us who we were," he says. "And who they were. And we already know a bunch of stuff already from being in the tanks. We know how to talk, and count, and write, and all that stuff."

"Oh," Jason says. "That's a lot easier, then. Less to teach."

The rooms have all been picked out by the time Clark returns, although he only has Slade with him. He looks even  _ more _ worn down than he did when he left, and he immediately claps Jon on the shoulder.

"Jon," he says. "Can you stay and help the boys settle in? I need to go speak to your mother about something important."

Jason knows enough to know that means  _ Slade and Bruce convinced me this is the only way and your mother is going to be upset. _

But realistically? It is the only way. There's no other way to hide five clones. One or two new additions to the family might be plausible by passing them off as cousins, but five? Five who can't hope to pass as human right then?

"Here we are," Alfred says as he turns the corner. His arms are loaded down with a stack of what Jason immediately realizes are clothes, and Wintergreen's right behind him, his arms loaded down with a stack of plastic bags. "Gather round, children."

It says a lot about Alfred's manner that all five clones immediate shuffle forward. Alfred shifts the clothes onto one arm, and starts handing out piles of clothes, with Wintergreen doing the same.

"A change of clothes to get you out of those jumpsuits," Alfred says. "I have made an attempt to color coordinate, although I'm afraid I had nothing in blue, so grey will have to do. The bag is toiletries and other essentials for your visit here."

"Alfred," Clark says, sounding strained. "They'll only be here for a few days-"

"And I sincerely doubt you've had time to take them shopping, or had time to collect toiletries for them. Have they ever brushed their teeth?" Alfred fires back, giving Clark no room to argue.

"They don't actually need to," Clark says. "Kryptonian enamel is better-"

"Oh right!" Jason says. "Could I talk to you real quickly before you go? Joey had some information you might find useful."

Clark seems caught off guard, as does Slade, but in the end they accompany Clark out back to talk before he leaves, leaving everyone else behind to explain the toiletries to the boys and hopefully get them changed into actual clothes.

"So," Clark says, glancing back to the two of them. "What is it that I need to know, and why am I not going to like it?"

Jason glances to Joey. It's  _ his _ story, and it doesn't feel right to share it himself.

_ You might as well say it, _ Joey signs.  _ He doesn't understand ASL anyway. _

Jason grumbles to himself and gets to explaining.

"Joey says that in his world, there have been a lot of attempts to clone your counterpart. However, something about Kryptonians make them really hard to clone, so they always end up coming out... wrong. They die, or fall apart, or whatever."

Clark's eyebrow quirks up, and he glances towards the house.

"They seem healthy," he says. "I checked them over as much as I could..."

_ Tell him the clones fall apart immediately, _ Joey signs.

"Oh no," Jason says quickly. "I don't think they're dying or anything like that. Joey says it's a pretty obvious thing. If that's what's happening. No, he wanted to tell you because the clones they he knows are all hybrids. Less direct clones, more... children. Generally crossed with humans."

Clark's expression darkens, and Jason wonders if he's wrong. If maybe Clark  _ isn't _ going to be okay with raising a pack of teenagers who are as much Luthor's as they are his.

"What are you saying?" He says, his eyes flicking up towards the house.

But it's too late to go back. It's too late to unsay what he's already said, and if he tries to bullshit, Clark will simply have them checked.

"Joey thinks they might be half you, half Luthor."

Clark's lips stay pressed in a thin line for what seems like hours, but really can't even be a full minute. Then he sighs, reaching up to rub at the bridge of his nose.

"That egomaniac... of course, unable to just use my DNA, he'd want to throw in his own... I'll see if I can't get them checked out."

_ If they are, _ Joey signs,  _ wouldn't that help the court case? _

It takes Jason a second to realize what he means.

"Oh!" He says. "That's a good point. If they do have his DNA, then that would absolutely prove Lex was involved, wasn't it? There's no way he could say  _ ahh but that was someone else _ when it's his DNA that made them. It's not like anyone else would have access to that sort of thing."

Clark's face lights up, and after that he looks  _ considerably _ less exhausted.

"You're right," he says. "If it's true, it'd certainly be worth it. It would be the final piece to connect everything he's done together, finally linking him to all of it. It would mean making the government aware of the boys, but..."

"That'll have to happen eventually anyway," he says.

"Most likely. I told Diana I wanted to get them settled before I started dealing with that, but if this helps put Luthor away..."

_ Then it's worth it, _ Joey says with a grin.

"Don't need a translation for that," Clark says with one of his own. "I need to go talk to Lois. I assume Bruce already told you the plan...?"

"He did," Jason says. "Seemed pretty obvious you'd take it, considering the lack of alternatives."

"Don't remind me," Clark says. "I'm just looking forward to them all having beds. Having them all sleeping on the living room floor was... unpleasant."

"We'll make sure they're all in bed before nine," Jason says with a wink. "Now go talk to Lois."

Clark gives them both nods, says his goodbyes, and then lifts off, zipping back towards Metropolis. Only once he's sure Clark is good and out of earshot does he turn back towards Joey, his shoulders sagging.

"See?" He says. "Things went fine."

_ You were freaking out for a moment there, _ Joey signs, raising his eyebrow.  _ You thought he was going to have an issue with it. _

"Can't blame a guy for being weirded out at the idea that he suddenly has kids with Lex Luthor," Jason says. "Guess we should go back and see if we can't help get them all ready for dinner."

Joey doesn't look terribly excited by the idea, but in the end they do head back inside to help, rather than leaving the others outnumbered.


	5. Chapter 5

The boys are still in their jumpsuits when they get back, and Alfred catches Jason's confused glance, answering it with a sigh.

"I'm afraid things didn't fit quite right," he says. "And once it became obvious that we only had enough shirts for three, they all changed back until we can get something for everyone."

"Thankfully, we can just take one of them to try on clothes and make sure it fits," Slade says.

"No!" Ren blurts. He sounds angry, and Jason catches Joey instinctively flinching back out of the corner of his eye. "You aren't splitting us up."

"Was only meant to be temporary," Slade sys, unbothered by the outburst. "But if it's an issue, we can just get your measurements."

"You've all got things to do," Wintergreen says. "Why don't I go pick up some for you?"

"That would be helpful," Slade says, and quickly excuses himself to the side to discuss what they need with Wintergreen. Jason isn't surprised when Ren volunteers to get measured, and Alfred gets to work before handing Wintergreen a list of measurements to work with.

"That's clothes, rooms, and toiletries figured out," Jason says. "What else?"

"Food," Slade says. "The small table isn't going to fit all of us with Jon and the boys, so you want to get the larger one ready?"

Jason opts to leave Jon and Damian with the boys, taking Joey to go set the table. They're nearly done when Bruce pops his head in, glancing around and letting out a sigh of relief when he spots them.

_ Did Clark already go? _ He signs, and Jason nods quickly.

"Half an hour ago or something like that. Wintergreen just left to get them some clothes, because what Alfred had on hand wasn't enough."

There's a moment's pause, and then Bruce replies.

_ Oh, I was buying the house,  _ he signs, and Jason realizes he's probably responding to something to Joey said. He shifts his body, trying to keep both of them in sight so he can keep tabs on whoever happens to be signing right then.

"Did you get it?"

_ They gave me a significant discount, _ Bruce signs.  _ They wanted to be rid of it. They did ask that I sign their son's Batman poster, though... _

"You can't be serious."

_ We live in a post-Batman world, _ Bruce signs.  _ I think he was just a fan. _

It's surreal just to think about it.

_ How long? _ Joey signs, and Bruce shrugs.

_ Move in by Friday, _ he signs back.  _ It's already empty. I'm talking to them about seeing if the Kent's can move in by Thursday. _

Bruce pauses, shaking his hands out, and Jason realizes his hands are probably cramping from all the gesturing he's had to do.

_ You'll adjust, _ Joey signs with a grin.

_ Hoping I don't have to, _ Bruce signs.  _ Being public does mean I can get another surgeon to look at the injury and hopefully minimize the muscle damage. _

"A very roundabout way of saying he's already tired of eating through a straw," Jason says, and Bruce huffs at him.

Jason's used to busy dinners from the times that the League's had people stay with them, but there's  _ nothing _ quite like Jon and the five boys.

"What did you have for dinner last night?" Slade asks as Alfred hands out plates of spaghetti and meatballs.

"Pizza," Ore says. "Lois said she couldn't cook enough for all of us."

"Not so much of an issue here, thankfully," Alfred says.

Wintergreen arrives late with an armload of shopping bags, but they're set aside for later so he can join them to eat. Once everyone settled down, things actually go fairly well. All of the clones know how to use cutlery, and none of them make any disasters. They seem  _ remarkably _ well adjusted, and it makes Jason wonder about just how much knowledge was pumped into them before they were woken up.

"Sorry to ask this over dinner," Jason says between bites, "but do we know why Luthor was making clones? Because table manners seem like a weird skillset."

He hasn't missed that they're all following actual, honest to god table manners. No talking with their mouths full. No elbows on the table.

Gar shrugs his shoulders.

"No idea," he says. "They didn't tell us."

"Unless he wants to volunteer that information, we may never find out," Slade says. "It doesn't really matter in the long run anyway. Whatever the hell he had planned for them isn't going to make any difference."

Joey gives a small wave to draw the family's attention before signing.

_ They're talking to each other, _ he signs.  _ Tiny neck movements, like my subvocals. _

_ I can hear some of it, _ Slade signs back.  _ Let them be. _

Jason's pretty sure it's better if they don't know that Slade can hear them, so he quickly says something to continue the conversation before they notice. For the most part, the clones eat in silence, keeping to themselves or talking with Jon as needed.

Clark arrives to pick up Jon not long after dark, even if Jon immediately begs to be allowed to stay.

"You have class in the morning," Clark reminds him. "It's important that we don't make it obvious that something's going on, and you've already been allowed to skip two days of school. That's suspicious enough."

"How'd things go with Lois?" Slade asks.

"She feels the same way I do," Clark says. "She'd rather stay in Metropolis, but that's not really an option. She's also very thankful we have an option at all. She's already started packing what we have-"

_ Tell him the house is mostly furnished, _ Bruce signs, and Slade does just that. Jason almost laughs at the look of relief on Clark's face.

"One less thing to worry about," he says, before turning his attention to where the boys stand in the hallway, watching him. "Has everything been okay?"

"Fine so far," Gar says.

"We can stay here," Ren volunteers. "It isn't a big deal."

"They've been nothing but polite," Alfred says. "Yen even volunteered to help set the table."

"...Yen?" Clark asks, looking mystified.

"We named them!" Jon says. "Well, they named themselves a little bit."

"Colors seemed a bit... tacky," Jason says. "So we improvised."

Clark scratches his head and then sighs.

"Alright," he says. "I'll be back tomorrow morning to check in with Lois, and you can do full introductions then. If you need anything, please let me know."

"We've been just fine," Slade says. "Go deal with your stuff, we can handle them."

Which is a lie, technically. If the clones go rogue, Slade's probably the only one who could manage them one on one, but they've shown no signs of being anything but accommodating.

"I had an idea," Jason says as they head back inside once Clark and Jon are gone. "They have a video, right?"

"A video...?" Slade says, before the realization hits them. "Not sure. I think Conner might have had one."

"What video?" Ore asks, glancing between them.

"We recently made contact with another reality," Damian says. "That's where Joey's from."

All five clones turn their attention to Joey, who offers them a shrug in response.

"Either way," Jason says, "a lot of our counterparts made videos for us. And since you guys sort of have a counterpart, I thought it might be interesting."

It turns out that Conner  _ does _ have a message on their system, and Bruce pulls it up on the living room's TV once they get everyone settled in to watch. There's no question about letting  _ just _ the clones see it, considering the contents, and Jason suspects they're going to have to give some kind of context for what they're seeing.

Bruce can't  _ say _ here we go, but he does gesture up to the screen before starting the video.

The moment the clones see their counterpart they start exchanging glances, and Jason wonders what they're talking about in their below-a-whisper conversation.

"I want his jacket," Ren says quietly, right as Conner leans forward, adjusting the angle, and then leans back.

"I have to say this is pretty weird," he says, and Jason accepts then and there that he's their counterpart. They have the exact same voice. "I guess because I don't know if this video is ever going to get watched. Nega-Batman and Nega-Deathstroke said they don't think that I exist in your universe, but I guess if you're watching this I should assume that you do exist, and now you're watching it, sooo..."

Damian snickers to himself and Jason shushes him.

"Hi!" Conner says. "Going to assume you're probably pretty fresh from the tank. Can't be more than a few months, or I'd hope anyway. Any more than that and you'd be flying around and they'd have noticed you. Hopefully you have a better transition than I did, because mine was pretty messy. Uuuuh... be nice to your little brother, because your Jon is probably as much of a sweetheart as my Jon... I'd say stuff about Tim and Bart, only Tim's way older and who knows what's going on with Bart..."

Conner pauses, scratching at his chin, obviously pondering what else it is he's supposed to say. 

"Oh," he says. "Power stuff. You probably don't need to breathe, but you'll freak out the first time you try it like I did. You really want to stay in the sunlight, because that'll keep you juiced up. Annnd..."

There's a long pause as his fingers tap impatiently on his arm.

"You know what, I'm going to call it there. But... good luck. I know you'll do just fine. Things will work out."

He leans forward, and the video ends.

"No cows," Damian mutters under his breath.

"What?" Blue asks, confused.

"Damian's video mentioned his counterparts pet cow," Slade explains. "Who I stupidly allowed him to find the counterpart of."

"You have a cow...?" Blue asks, looking even  _ more _ confused.

"She lives at a petting zoo," Damian says. "You should come see them."

"Ohhh no," Jason says. "Damian, how are we going to explain them? Five identical quintuplets that literally no one has heard of?"

"Blue can come with me," Damian ways. "A different one can go each day."

Jason buries his face in his palm.

"They're only going to be here for a few days," Slade says.

"They'll be living nearby," Damian says. "So they can still meet Batcow."

_ Why don't we table this discussion, _ Bruce signs.  _ I'm sure they want to go to bed. _

They don't particularly look like they want to go to bed, but Jason sure wants to, so he jumps at the chance.

"Alright," he says. "Bed, and we can sort everything else out in the morning."

They have pajamas, which is nice, but there's what seems to be a small, nearly-silent argument between Gar and Ren over which room is which, which gets revolved by Ore's seeming intervention. It's bizarre to watch, and Jason makes a note to ask Slade what he heard if he remembers. They make sure that all the boys are in their room before heading back for their own rooms.

"Night," Slade says with a yawn, gingerly wrapping an arm around Bruce's waist. "See you in the morning."

Jason takes no time at all to get to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Jason wakes choking. There are hands on his throat and an all too familiar face in front of him, and it takes him far too long for him to pry his eyes open and face reality: he's alone in his room, bothered only by a dream.

By the time he calms down and the tears run dry, he no longer remembers the dream. He remembers only the deep, pressing sense of shame and failure. He did something wrong. He did something wrong and someone got hurt, but the more he thinks about it, the more the details slip away.

The fact that the details are falling away doesn't make him feel any better. The  _ feelings _ are still there, even if he no longer remembers why, and he realizes after a moment that he doesn't want to risk going back to sleep and starting the dream again.

His mouth is dry, so he drags himself out of bed, checking his phone. It's four in the morning, and his brain tries to remember who should be out on patrol before realizing that the answer is, and always is going to be,  _ no one. _ No one's on patrol.

Right.

He's not even to the kitchen when he spots that the light is on and stops, taking a moment to compose himself. He considers doubling back to wash his face and then decides it probably doesn't matter, so he settles for rubbing at his face a little bit and heading into the kitchen anyway.

It's Bruce, hunched over a laptop as he sits at the kitchen's island, and when Jason clears his throat Bruce's head snaps up.

"Jas-" He starts, cringing at the feeling of speaking, and he goes silent.

_ Jay, _ he signs, probably because it's easier.  _ Couldn't sleep? _

"I could ask the same of you," he says as he heads to the fridge to get himself a glass of water. 

Bruce grunts, and when Jason turns back around he shrugs.

_ Couldn't sleep, _ he signs.  _ So I gave up. Slade's out cold. _

Jason wonders if Bruce is lying to him. Wonders if Bruce had dreams too. And then the more obvious solution pops into his head and he almost laughs.

"You should be taking your painkillers," he says, and Bruce's grimace tells him that he's right on the money. It's not that he had a nightmare or anything like that, it's that he's too much of an idiot to take the medication that'll let him sleep.

_ Good thing I didn't anyway, _ Bruce says, and it's a  _ really _ blatant attempt to distract him. Even so, that doesn't stop it from working as Bruce flips his laptop around, showing a camera feed.

"Is that the guest room?"

_ I have cameras everywhere in case of emergency, _ Bruce signs.  _ Normally they're turned off, but I wanted to make sure everything was alright and that the clones were still in place. _

Jason leans down, inspecting the camera, and realizes what Bruce is showing him. He's not showing him  _ one _ clone: he's showing him  _ all _ the clones.

"They're sharing a room?"

_ They snuck around not long after we left them and then piled into one room. They're rotating out who guards the door while the other four share the bed. _

It looks cramped, but the clones don't seem to mind, curled against each other as they sleep.

"Maybe we should put two beds together tomorrow," Jason says. "I assume we're not going to make them go back to their rooms?"

"N-" Bruce starts, grunting again.

_ No,  _ he signs.  _ And I suddenly have a new appreciation for how Joey manages to do this all day long. It is... frustrating. _

"Don't know how he does it," Jason agrees. "But don't think you're getting out of the painkiller conversation."

Bruce grunts at him.

_ Why don't we talk about why you're awake? _ Bruce signs.

"That's playing dirty," Jason protests. "I got a solid... five, six hours of sleep. You got zero."

_ I'm an adult,  _ Bruce signs.

"So am I," Jason counters. "And if you  _ don't _ take your painkillers and go to bed, I'm going to wake up Slade to drag you away."

_ You're playing dirty, _ Bruce signs, sulking the whole while.

"And you're a grown man who refuses to take the medication that will let him sleep."

He expects more sulking. Instead, Bruce reaches out, beckoning him forward, and Jason automatically steps into his grip as Bruce pulls him against him. It's not a full hug—probably because that hurts Bruce to manage—but it's close enough.

"Are you doing okay?" Bruce asks, his voice quiet, and his jaw barely moving.

"I'm fine," Jason says, but when Bruce looks up at him, Jason corrects himself. "I just... feel like he should be here. If I hadn't frozen up, he would be."

"What happened to him-"

"Sign it," Jason says, lips pressing together. Bruce is too stubborn for his own good, and he's going to make things worse. Bruce grunts and breaks the awkward hug so that Jason can see his hands.

_ What happened to him wasn't your fault, _ he signs.  _ Thomas had a lot of issues of his own, and none of those are on you. _

"We should have made him stay here," Jason says. There are a million ways that what happened could have been avoided. If he hadn't frozen up. If he'd sent Thomas the other way. If he'd made him stay behind.

_ Thomas wouldn't have tolerated being away from the danger, _ Bruce signs.  _ He would have been too worried about everyone. I know it's easy to blame yourself when something goes wrong, but you can't. Not for this. _

Jason wonders how many times Bruce has blamed himself, and he tries to take a deep breath. Bruce wouldn't tell him it wasn't his fault if it was. Bruce is honest with him.

"Love you," Bruce says quietly. "I'll take my pills."

"Good," Jason says, leaning up to kiss Bruce on the forehead. "Now get your ass to bed."

Jason settles in at the laptop, keeping an eye on the camera feed before checking the news.

It's not what he finds that surprises him, but instead what he doesn't find. The fact that Lex has been arrested and is facing charges connected to what happened in Gotham is all over the news, second only to news about the press conferences.

But there's nothing else about what happened. There's no mention of the Cains, or Thomas, or even the fact that Harley's dead. There's obviously no mention of the clones, either.

Jason wonders if it was intentional. If revealing their identities served to cover for what happened. No one has time to dig into Thomas or Cassandra or even the clones when they're too busy dissecting every part of the Wilson-Wayne family.

He amuses himself by reading the rumors and speculation about them. The fact that he was officially missing for years is brought up several times, but the information they have is too sparse for them to understand why. He finds plenty of negative articles—most of which seem to be unfortunately focused on Dick thanks to his job, although some question Damian's involvement—but plenty more positive ones.

He lets himself just read them. There's opinion piece after opinion piece talking about their experiences with the Bats, and he ends the night reading one from Clarence Wells. Jason recognizes the name, even if he's not sure from where, but the article itself keeps popping up when he searches.

_ For those of you who don't live in Gotham, the retirement of Batman and Gotham's other resident crime fighters must seem strange. For those of us who do live in Gotham, the day they retired is a day we're always going to remember,  _ the article starts.

By the time he's done, his eyes are wet again, and as Jason rubs at them he wonders just how the hell he got so sappy.


	7. Chapter 7

Alfred finds him in the kitchen the following morning, and immediately to sets him to work helping him prepare breakfast. Jason's not much of a cook, but he's good with a knife, so he ends up preparing potatoes for some hash. Alfred doesn't ask why he was up, instead providing company and smalltalk through the early hours.

When Damian shows up, Alfred sends Damian to fetch Joey, and sends Jason to go fetch  _ the boys. _ There's no mention of Slade or Bruce, and Jason's content to let them sleep, even if he does wonder how the hell Alfred knew Bruce would be needing it.

He doesn't bother heading to the other doors, instead knocking on Ren's door where he knows the others will be. There's some shuffling, and then Ren cracks open the door, effectively hiding the rest of the room with his body.

"Breakfast's being made," he says. "You can come in pajamas if you want, or you can shower and change." He pauses for a second, and then registers that he's probably dumping a lot on them at once. "...You know what all that is, right?"

"We know what that is," Ren says. "We'll come in a bit."

Then he shuts the door. Jason's pretty sure he's trying to hide the fact that his brothers are there, so Jason makes a point of walking extra loudly as he leaves the guest wing.

Joey's helping set the table when he gets back, and Jason gives him a quick nod.

"Morning," he says. "Not sure if Bruce and Slade are going to join us right away."

"They aren't," Damian says. "I checked in on them, and father is still sleeping."

"Good," Jason says. "He needs it."

When the boys arrive (always in the full pack, which seems to be a pattern), they're all fully dressed. Aside from the colors of their shirts, their clothing is identical, and thankfully it all seems to fit.

"Oh good," Wintergreen says when he arrives. "I was worried something wouldn't fit and I'd have to go back."

"I think it would be sensible to spend part of today helping them practice their powers," Damian says. "Flying, for example-"

He's interrupted by the beep of the security system, and Jason hops up to get the back door. Clark's in civilian clothes, but does look like he actually  _ slept _ for once.

"Morning Jason," he says. "How are the boys?"

"You're here just in time for breakfast," he says, waving Clark inside.

Clark seems happy to see them in actual clothes, and joins them for breakfast as they update him on what's been going on. That said, Clark has updates of his own, even if he doesn't share them until Slade arrives to join them late in the meal.

"Things are pretty hectic right now. Diana, Steve, and Arthur are handling what happened at South Gotham-"

"New Arkham," Jason corrects. Clark's face pinches, but he carries on as if he wasn't interrupted.

"They're handling what happened there," he says. "David Cain has enough outstanding warrants that he's going to prison, period, so he's finished."

"And his daughter?" Slade asks.

"Legal minor," Clark confirms. "She's non-verbal, so Steve pulled J'onn in to communicate. He says she's fully aware, and can understand most of what is being said, but she has difficulty communicating back."

"What's happening to her?" Damian asks.

"That's what we're trying to decide," Clark says. "Obviously she can't be held accountable, but finding a place for her to stay that will be... accomodating is proving-"

"We'll take her," Slade says, and Clark turns to him, blinking.

"Shouldn't you talk to Bruce...?"

"We already talked about it," he says. "Right after we fought her. We've both interacted with her in the other world, so we have a general idea of what we're dealing with."

Clark doesn't seem nearly as enthusiastic about the idea as Jason thought he would.

"I think you might be biting off a bit more than you can chew," Clark admits. "She's going to need a lot of one on one attention."

"Assuming she's not coming tomorrow, we'll be just fine," Slade says. "We've handled things before, and if the other universe's shitty Bruce can manage with her, we sure as hell can."

He seems distinctly defensive, so Clark moves on.

"I'll let them know," he says.

"Thomas?" Jason ventures, even if he's afraid to hear the answer, and Clark shakes his head.

"Diana's dealing with that," he says. "I haven't heard from her."

Jason doesn't push further. He's not sure if Clark really hasn't heard, or if he just doesn't want to say it (either in front of Damian, or in front of  _ him) _ but either way he doubts he's going to get anything else.

"How'd it go with Lois?" Slade asks.

"Better than I thought," Clark admits. "She's taking a few days off work to pack things up and get everything organized. For now, we're leaving our... lives in Metropolis. Easy enough for us to commute."

"Bruce is playing a game of  _ how fast can I give people money,"  _ Slade says. "The owners aren't in the area, but the house is all ready, so it shouldn't be too long."

Clark ends up leaving not long after breakfast, but not before getting a blood sample from each of the boys. They seem wary of the whole process, but Clark's the only one who can actually do it, and his bedside manner is at least enough to keep them calm.

Once he's gone, Damian tows the boys out onto the back lawn to practice flying without any prompting. Jason and Joey join them on the back porch, and Alfred promises to let them know when the construction workers arrive.

To the immense surprise of everyone but Jason himself, the clones seem to have absolutely no problems with their powers. They fly with ease, like it's second nature, and it's not until Jason points out that it  _ is _ second nature to them that everyone stops being shocked.

The clones have never known anything else. They never had to grow into their powers. To them, flying is as natural as breathing, and they take to it with the same level of ease. They seem compliant when Damian explains the same rules for flying Jon has (no flying above a certain level, no flying in front of people), and then settles back to watch.

Bruce joins them for lunch, looking considerably more awake, and once lunch is over, Jason makes a point of excusing himself.

"You guys can watch them practice," he says. "I need to call work and make sure it isn't burning down without me being there to roast some marshmallows on the flames."

Slade digs into his wallet, producing a slip of paper which he hands over.

"When you're done," he says, "give this one a call."

Jason has his guesses, but he tucks the paper away anyway, giving them a quick nod.

"Yell if you need anything," he says, heading back to his room.

He should probably do his work sitting at a desk with a computer in front of him. Instead, he calls work lying face down in his own bed, pondering the possibility of handling the call while under a stack of blankets.

He calls his own office first, curious to know if they've set up a  _ I'm out of the office _ message, and is surprised when someone picks up.

"Afternoon, boss," Michael says, and Jason pauses, squinting at the phone for a second before tucking it back against his face.

"Michael?" He says. "Why are you at work?"

Michael has a broken clavicle and a concussion, and he should  _ absolutely not fucking be at work  _ less than a week later.

"I'm working," Michael says. "Why else would I be here?"

"You're  _ injured,"  _ Jason says. "Go home. Take a week off."

"I just took a week off," Michael says. "And I'm fine. I have my arm in a sling and that's all I really need."

"You had a concussion!"

The one nice thing about the situation is that he doesn't need to pretend like Michael's concussion was from anything other than getting clubbed over the head while running around as Azrael. He doesn't have to worry about someone listening in, or overhearing, or anything like that.

"I got better," Michael says. "I've always healed faster than the average person, and the doctor cleared me to go back to work already."

It's true that MIchael's got better regeneration than most, but it's sure as hell not  _ Slade _ levels.

"You should be resting," he says again, annoyed.

"Not interested," Michael says. "Outreach has been absolutely  _ swamped _ with donations, sponsorship requests, and other community support. I've had to pull in extra staff to handle it all. I'm perfectly capable of working, so I'm not going to just sit back."

Jason feels a pang of guilt. Sitting back... just like he's been doing.

"I was just calling to let you know I was planning to come in tomorrow," he says, pulling the entire idea directly out of his ass. He wasn't planning any such thing, but he's sure the house can spare him a day or two.

"Please don't," Michael says, catching Jason off guard. "Right now we have things nice and under control. If you show up, we're going to get absolutely  _ mobbed _ by reporters, and we've only just managed to get rid of most of them. Any time anyone shows up, the staff are all authorized to start lecturing them on the important work Wayne Outreach does, without actually talking about you at all."

Alright. It's not exactly what Jason's expecting, but the logic holds up at least, and he lets himself relax, the guilt easing away.

"Alright," he says. "But I have full access to Bruce's office and everything I need here, so if you need me for anything..."

"Then I'll call," he says. "We're trying to discourage people from getting involved with us just to get close to you for obvious reasons."

Jason can imagine those reasons, so he lets himself let out a little huff, extracting yet another promise from Michael to both call him if he's needed, and to get some rest himself, and then wraps the call up.

Which leaves the slip of paper Slade gave him. It isn't labelled, but he can take a guess as to whose number Slade would slip him, so he can't even pretend to be surprised when he dials it and hears a heavy accent on the other end.

"Who's this?" French asks, sounding equal parts alarmed and confused.

"That any way to talk to your boss?"

He's most certainly  _ not _ their boss, but that doesn't stop French from making an excited sound.

"Hold on," he says quickly. "I'm going to put you on speaker."

"Is that baby boss?" Doyle asks, and Jason rolls his eyes even if they can't actually see him doing that.

"Don't call him baby boss," Cho says. "He's more like... teenage boss."

They  _ are _ all older than he is, so he gives them a pass right then.

"I got your number from Slade," he says. "Should I assume you're not in jail?"

"Jail?" Alvarez says. "What do you take us for?"

"We keep it strictly above the board," French says. "More or less. Worst thing they could get us on is that Cho hasn't filed his income tax yet this year-"

"Hey!"

"-But otherwise? Nah. We got hired legally as contractors, we're all authorized to work in America, and no part of the job we signed up for was illegal."

"Except what you were transporting," Jason points out.

"Like I said, no part of the job  _ we signed up for,"  _ French says. "Didn't know what we had in the truck until Superman peeled the trailer open like a can of tuna."

Jason can only imagine how alarming it must have been to see Clark like that, knowing so little about what he was like as a person.  _ He  _ knows Clark isn't the type to lash out in rage or anything like that, but everyone else?

"So why are you... what, still in Gotham?"

"Sitting in a hotel," Doyle says. "Bored off our asses."

"To the surprise of literally no one  _ except _ Luthor's lawyer, the person who hired us mysteriously dropped dead the day after we surrendered," French explains. "So they've taken our statements, confirmed everything we've said, and that's it. We can't prove who hired us, and they don't really need us anymore, so right now we're waiting for them to clear us to go so we can get the hell out of the country."

Jason's not surprised to hear that even under arrest, Luthor's reach is still far enough to help him cover his own tracks.

"Where are you heading?" Jason asks, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

"We're weighing our options," Alvarez says. "I said I wanted to retire, but I'd rather end on a high note then have my last job be me almost getting turned inside out by Big Blue."

"Guy in Bialya wants us back," French says. "But all our men cleared out the moment we got  _ escorted _ by Metropolis PD, even if they weren't going to be in any actual trouble. So we'd have to recruit new people, train them all up, and... that sounds like a hell of a lot of work."

"Not worth the money," Alvarez says. "So we're looking at smaller jobs."

"I want to do something a bit more positive," Cho says. "If it's going to be our last mission, I'd rather it be something actually  _ good. _ You could say I was inspired by a certain pair of goody two-shoes."

Jason's happy they're not in the same room. If they were, he'd be teased until the day he died about how badly he's blushing right then.

"If you don't want anything too nasty," Doyle says, "we've got options in Poland, Kasnia, Santa Prisca, Argenti-"

"What's in Santa Prisca?" Jason asks. He can't stop himself.

Doyle makes a little  _ hnnn _ in the back of his throat, and Jason can picture him checking through the listing.

"Someone's willing to pay a bunch of money for a team of bodyguards to keep this politician alive," he says. "He's running on an anti-corruption platform, and has made himself an enemy of the countries current ruling party. Lived through two assassination attempts already. Sounds like risky business."

"Let me guess," Cho says. "Good guy, but going anywhere near him means every cartel in Santa Prisca is going to be after you?"

"They're not as strong as they were," French points out. "It's less of a hellhole right now."

"Do you know who posted it?" Jason asks.

"Mmm, just a pseudonym," Doyle says. "Bird."

Bird. Jason rolls over, grabbing his tablet and tapping into the manor's system to pull his files. The name seems familiar, and he's proven right when he checks the database for  _ Bird _ and  _ Santa Prisca. _

"Bane's lieutenant," Jason says. "Or was. Probably is again."

"Bane?" Cho chokes. "You can scratch that one."

"No," Jason says. "You don't have to scratch that one. He's trying to do in Santa Prisca what we've done in Gotham. Push the gangs out. It makes sense he'd be trying to push a new wave of politicians into office, because every old one is helping the cartels."

"Are you really backing Bane?" French asks. "I thought you hated the guy."

"We came to an understanding," Jason says. "What's the pay like?"

"Damned good," Doyle says, "or no one would even think about taking it."

"If you want a hard job," Jason says, "that would be the one I'd pick."

He can hear soft discussion, just out of range of the phone, and someone  _ hmmms _ on the other end.

"This a referral?" French asks.

"Something like that," Jason says. "I can vouch for you to a limited extent. I'm not sure how much it's worth, but it's better than nothing."

Jason can't stop his eyes from drifting over to where the ragged old bear sits on his dresser. He has to get it there  _ somehow, _ doesn't he?

"We'll let you know what we decide," French says. "This your number?"

"My cell," he says. "Don't pass it around."

Cho laughs at that, his laugh high and unique, and Jason even thinks he catches Alvarez chuckling in the background.

"I'll keep that in mind," French says. "Talk to you later."

Jason sinks back into the bed as the call ends, and entirely without meaning to, falls asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Someone's knocking at his door, and Jason's pretty sure that's the only reason he wakes up at all. He feels groggy, and when he checks the time he realizes he's been out for at least three hours. It's dinner time, and he lets out a groan.

"Coming," he says, dragging himself out of bed.

It's Wintergreen, who gives him a quick once over.

"Dinner," he says after a moment's pause. "Although you might want to clean up. The Kent's are here."

Jason supposes that they should probably be concerned about how many secrets Wintergreen's learned, only the fact that Slade trusted him with  _ his _ secrets means it feels like a silly worry. If he can be trusted to manage Slade's jobs and more or less entirely life, he can be trusted with other things.

Jason cleans himself up before he heads into the kitchen, finding it mostly empty until follows the noise to the large dining room. It's more than just the five extra clones and Wintergreen. No, Jon, Clark,  _ and _ Lois are all there, deep in discussion. Quite a few people turn to look at him, and Jason yawns for emphasis before grabbing his usual seat.

"Send him to work and he goes to take a nap," Slade says with a grin.

_ Don't pester him, _ Bruce signs furiously.  _ Let him sleep. _

"He knows I'm kidding, Bruce," Slade says. "So who's got news?"

"I do," a voice says, and Jason's caught off guard until he realizes that Joey's phone is resting in the center of the table. He supposes with Bruce  _ also _ having to sign, and with so many people who aren't fluent in ASL, using the phone is more like a necessity than anything else. "I spoke to Adeline today. Apparently reporters found her and swarmed the house, wanting to ask about Slade."

Slade's wince makes it  _ very _ clear what he thinks about that.

"I told her that even if she doesn't like you, and even if you're not the same person as pop, I wasn't going to have her be slandering you while I'm taking advantage of your kindness," Joey adds. "From what I understand she basically told them she wasn't going to talk and they were wasting their time."

"One less thing to worry about," Damian says. "I understand that quite a few people have been approached for information about me, but I have been given only the most glowing of reviews."

Clark frowns at that.

"I wish they'd leave you alone," he says. "I know this is probably hypocritical, considering what we do for work, but hounding people like that..."

"It's bad journalism," Lois says. "There's a difference between calling someone's office to ask for a statement and hunting down someone's ex-wife to ask for dirt."

"Bruce has two bits of information to share," Slade says, looking smug. "One, the Whit's are finalizing the paperwork, and are fine with you all moving in tomorrow morning, if that's fine with you. Sale should be finished the day after that."

"That fast?" Lois asks, looking alarmed. "I thought we'd have to wait a lot longer."

"Everything's fast when large amounts of cash are involved," Wintergreen says. "Cash home sales can be expedient even when the person buying  _ isn't _ Bruce Wayne."

"What's the second thing?" Jon asks. He looks happy as can be, and Jason's pretty sure that has a lot to do with the fact that he'll be able to literally run over to bother Damian any time he wants.

_ Joey has a DMV appointment tomorrow, _ Bruce signs, and Slade makes a point of translating for the Kents.

"Already?" Joey asks. "Who knew your super powers extend to making the DMV stop being slow..."

He pauses, and then winces. "That's a pan-dimensional problem, right?"

"That's a pan-dimensional problem," Clark confirms with a laugh. "But I guess it's one less thing to worry about. I hear you drove Jon to art class the last time the boys went?"

"Just the once," Joey says. He's normally the picture of confidence, so seeing him act almost  _ nervous _ around Clark is interesting.

"Jon says you're quite the artist," Lois says. "It was all he'd talk about."

"Damian was the same way," Slade says. "Unfortunate that we had to miss this week."

"There's always next week," Lois says. "And with us living up here, carpooling will be much less of a hassle."

Despite how much they have to do, the Kents end up staying an extra hour and a half, watching a movie (picked by Jon) with the boys. Jason's pretty sure it's the best thing they could have done, because for the most part the boys seem to be sticking together, keeping largely to themselves. On one hand, it's nice that they're not causing trouble. On the other, it does make him worry that they're not integrating well, and the movie seems like a positive step towards that.

Jason waits until they're gone before he checks in with Joey.

"Are you actually okay with the whole driving test thing? I know Bruce kind of sprung it on you..."

_ Not an issue, _ Joey signs.  _ We talked about it, and I gave him some tips for getting people's attention before signing. _

"Just making sure," Jason says, breathing a sigh of relief. As worried as he is about the clones intergrating, they've got a whole pack of people advocating for them, and Joey... not so much. Slade's been more absent as he makes sure Bruce is taking care of himself, and Jason can't help but feel Joey's been left in the lurch a bit.

_ It's fine, _ Joey signs.  _ Really. You've all been busy, but everyone's been really accommodating. _

If the Kents are going to be moving, that means they're going to have to spend less time keeping an eye on the clones.

"Why don't I talk to the Rows," he says. "See if we can't make up for that movie we owe them?"

_ After the driver's test? _ Joey asks, raising an eyebrow.

"To celebrate," he says. "And to get out of the house."

He hasn't left in days, and as nice as the manor is, he's eager to stretch his legs.

_ Alright, _ Joey signs.  _ Tomorrow, then. _

Jason texts the Rows through the rest of the evening, setting things up while keeping an eye on the boys. He makes sure Bruce has warned Clark about the room sharing they have going on, and does end up remembering to ask Slade.

"So what are they talking about with their... whisper-conversation?" Jason asks when he's sure the clones are distracted by Damian coaching them through appropriate tooth-brushing techniques.

"Whatever's happening right then," Slade says. "They don't do it when Clark or Jon is around, so I think they don't realize I can hear it. Mostly it's boring stuff, but they're definitely nervous about... pretty much everything."

Jason can't blame them.

"Hopefully they get settled once they're in the new house," he says. "And then... feel a bit more comfortable."

"Hopefully," Slade says. "Did you call that number?"

"I did," Jason says. "Talked with them about their plans, they said they'd keep me up to date."

"Your dad doesn't approve," Slade says, "but I don't really see the harm in it."

Bruce takes that time to turn the corner, glaring at the two of them. 

_ I don't approve of what? _ He signs, and Jason takes the opportunity to change the subject.

"I'm going to take Joey to his driver's test tomorrow, and then we're going to go to a movie with Cullen, Harper, and Amina."

_ Don't think I don't see you changing the subject, _ Bruce says.

"I do," Jason says, "but I also know you're going to hassle Slade for it, not me."

He grins at the two of them, and Slade sulks a bit, knowing it's the truth.

"Alright," Slade says. "Time for bed." When the clones start moving towards their own rooms, Slade raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Did you not want to share?"

They all freeze, and Ren's eyes slide over to Slade, obviously aware they've been caught. Slade's obviously going to drag it out, but Jason isn't interested in that.

"You aren't in trouble," he says. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to share, and we already told Clark and Lois so they can take that into account."

_ They mentioned bunk beds,  _ Bruce signs to him.

"They might not be able to fit you all in one room," Jason says, "but they can probably put two in one room and three in another, so no one will spend the night alone. But while you're here, you're welcome to all pile into one room. We're not going to make you split up."

"...So can we go get our stuff?" Ore says, blinking at him.

"Go for it," Jason says with a shrug. "You might as well."

Having five people managing a nightly routine at a single sink when there's four others available is silly, but Jason's not going to fight them on it when it's so painfully clear that they're trying to stick together. He handles keeping an eye on them until they're ready to go, and then retires with a quick  _ goodnight _ before heading back to the main hall.

"Done?" Slade asks.

"Everyone's in bed," he says. "Let's follow their example."

Jason doesn't fall asleep as quickly as he'd like. The memory of the nightmare—even if it's more of an  _ impression _ than a true memory—keeps him awake. He tosses and turns, and eventually climbs out of bed entirely, heading out into the house.

The kitchen's dark when he passes it, and he catches himself hanging in the doorway, uncertain. For just a moment, he's envious. Envious of Bruce and Slade, curled up together in their room. Envious of the clones, knowing they have someone at their back.

Jason pulls open the door to the cave, padding down the cool stone. There's no reason to it, no real logic. He's acting entirely on instinct as he heads towards the cot in the corner, the one Bruce used to sleep on when he couldn't be bothered to go upstairs.

Jason crawls into it, pulling the covers around himself, and then finally lets himself sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A [super cute fanart](https://al-debaran26.tumblr.com/post/187183005193/the-super-five-doing-a-super-sentai-pose-the-5) of the Conner Clones by @aldebaran26!
> 
> The real question is... which bad influence goaded them into doing Sentai poses? 🤔

Jason wakes slowly. There's no immediate understanding, so for the first minute or two after waking all he can think is  _ why the hell am I in the cave?  _ It's only later that he remembers, rolling over with a sigh and wondering if he can sneak up before anyone notices he's out of his room.

The answer is no, because Slade's sitting a few feet away in one of the roller chairs, tapping away at his phone.

"You with me?" He asks, not looking up.

So much for getting away with it without being noticed.

"Yeah," he says. "I'm fine. Just wanted to... mix it up."

Slade glances up, and Jason feels like Slade's gaze is burning a hole in him.

"Mixing it up by sleeping on the crappy cot in the cave. You going to tell me what's actually up?"

Jason's not sure he can even answer. He's not sure he could even explain to himself what the issue is, so he simply shakes his head.

"Come here," Slade says, but it isn't a question as he closes the distance, pulling Jason up against him before resting his chin on the top of Jason's head, letting Jason curl against him. "Everything that's happened is... a lot. I know it's a lot. You just take all the time you need, alright?"

"Is Bruce worried?" Jason asks quietly, the idea of Bruce worrying over him making his stomach twist with anxiety.

"Still out cold, thankfully," Slade says. "Realized you weren't in your room and checked the cameras. Don't think anyone else has even noticed, so why don't we sneak upstairs?"

They do just that. They don't run into anyone else, and Slade promises to handle the sheets while Jason takes a shower.

_ Recovery isn't always a straight line  _ he reminds himself over and over. When he gets out, he spares only the briefest glance into the mirror before tearing his eyes away. Right. He's still supposed to look, to do Hudson's stupid excercise, only the idea of it turns his stomach.

He puts it off for later and heads to breakfast.

He double takes when he spots Jon at the breakfast table, devouring a stack of pancakes like he's been there the whole time.

"Hold on," he says. "When did he get here?"

"Couple'a minutes ago," Jon says, his mouth full of pancakes. "Mom said I could take the day off school since we're moving, and she wants me to help carry things."

"Faster than a moving truck," Damian says.

The clones arrive, herded along by Slade, and Bruce arrives a few minutes later.

_ Morning, _ Bruce signs.  _ You're leaving for your appointment soon? _

"That's the plan," Jason says, spotting Joey arriving already ready to go. "Driving test, movie, lunch. Or maybe lunch, movie. We'll see how everyone feels."

"What?!" Damian shouts. "Jason doesn't have to help them move?!"

"Jason is spending the day with his friends," Slade says. "Something you're also doing. Your friend just happens to be moving."

_ He's also taking Joey to get his driver's license, _ Bruce signs.  _ So that he can drive you to class without me having to worry about him getting pulled over. _

"Man," Jon says quietly, "I really need to learn that hand stuff."

"I'll teach you," Damian says. "It will be an excellent distraction from having to move furniture or whatever it is moving entails."

Jason gets his hit of reality when they're in the car, starting to leave. He pulls the car around the side of the house and stops, gawking at the scene.

There's an  _ encampment _ on the other side of the gate. There have to be six or seven vehicles, all parked on the side of the road. 

"Oh my god," Jason murmurs under his breath. "Don't they have anything better to do?"

_ Doubt it, _ Joey signs.  _ You're the most important news story they're likely to get for months. _

Slade apparently seems to have had the same thought he did, because he heads his way down to the gate on foot, causing a surge of interest. Jason cracks the window open just to hear what he's saying, equal parts thankful and amused that Slade's loud enough for him to hear.

"You step one foot onto the grounds and that's trespassing," Slade says. "So back off and get out of the road."

Of course it's not that easy. Jason has to carefully ease his car through the crowd, and even once they're clear of them (with a grumpy Slade closing the gate behind them by hand), two cars go after them, obviously following them to see where they're going.

"Are you kidding me," Jason mutters under his breath, checking the mirrors. A part of him is angry with himself for not having realized this was going to happen. There's no way they could just lie low and have it blow over. He's  _ Batman,  _ and he's got this great big mysterious past, and of  _ course _ he's going to have people snooping around in his life.

Or trying.

Jason's not about to make it easy for them.

Because that's the thing about being Batman for years: you get  _ really _ good at avoiding people.

Jason loses the first fairly easily, but the second is a bit more intent on keeping up. He takes a longer route to their destination, circling through Old Gotham to lose the second.

By the time they make to the DMV, it's just them, and Jason's trying not to look  _ too _ smug at how he managed to dodge them.

"Alright," he says. "You've got an appointment, but-"

Joey's already pulling out his phone, the screen lighting up.

"I'm not counting on them knowing ASL," he says, "and it's not like I can sign while driving anyway."

"Fair point," Jason says as he locks the car, handing the keys over.

He hangs back, grabbing a seat near the back of the room, and keeps an eye on Joey as he works his way through the line to make his appointment. There's something almost delightfully  _ mundane _ about it, but when Joey vanishes out the door with the examiner he busies himself with his phone.

He's sure Joey has to be  _ almost _ done when someone clears their throat above him, and Jason glances up, cringing. It's not someone he knows. They're a total stranger, a young woman who looks to be around his age. She looks nervous, which Jason figures is probably a good sign (if she was about to jam a microphone in his face she probably wouldn't look  _ nervous, _ or at least he hopes anyway).

"Uhm," she says quietly, and if nothing else Jason appreciates that she seems to be trying to keep her voice down. "You're... Jason Wilson-Wayne, right?"

As if it wasn't obvious enough from looking on him, so he nods. No point trying to pretend he just so happens to be a guy with the same look, build, and scars.

"I... sorry for bothering you. I know you've probably had a lot of people harassing you, and everyone's seen the whole paparazzi thing going on, but I... you probably don't even remember..."

She scratches at the back of her neck, and Jason has to admit to himself that no, he doesn't remember.

"It's fine," he says. "You're actually the first one today, so that's a thing."

"Really?" She says. "Uhm... well, okay." She takes a deep breath, and then gets around to what it was she was probably going to say to start. "You definitely don't remember it, but a few years ago my little sister was dealing with a stalker, and when he tried to break into her apartment, you responded. You got there before the police, and stopped the situation from getting... a lot worse. He ended up in jail, but..." She trails off for a moment, her eyes drifting before finally snapping back to him.

"You sat with her," she says. "The police handled him, but you sat with her until my parents were able to get there. It meant a lot, and I think it helped her a lot to have someone there with her. I didn't think I'd ever get a chance to thank you for it, but... Well, here I am."

Jason realizes very quickly that he is  _ not _ prepared for this. It was bad enough reading articles and getting choked up at home, but having a real flesh and blood person coming up to him to say that sort of thing? He has no idea how the hell he's going to handle it, and he can  _ feel _ his cheeks starting to burn.

"Sorry!" She blurts out. "I just... thought I should let you know. I don't think you guys got enough recognition, and I know you probably have a lot going on, so I thought I'd just... take the chance... Sorry!"

She scoots off, leaving Jason to wonder how many more times it's going to have to happen before he'll get used to it.

He's pretty sure the answer is  _ more than he can handle. _


	10. Chapter 10

It feels like a true mercy that no one else approaches him. He keeps his head firmly down until Joey arrives, nudging his foot to get his attention, and Jason lets out a sigh of relief as Joey holds up a piece of paper.

_ Passed, _ he signs.  _ They couldn't figure out how to process my ID and had to call the state department, and then they quizzed me about whether I was a vigilante when they saw my address. _

"Not surprised," he says, heading out to the car. "You want to drive, or...?"

_ Don't know where I'm going, _ Joey signs back, so Jason takes the driver's seat.

It's closer to twelve when the arrive, and Jason winces when he spots the rest of his friends standing together on the sidewalk, deep in conversation. They're already there, and he's made them wait.

When Harper spots him, she proceeds to do the least dignified thing possible, tackling him at a run. Jason's done it enough to react in time, catching her out of the air before carefully setting her down.

"One time I'm going to miss," he says.

"And then you'll spend the rest of your life feeling guilty for it, and I'll have won forever."

Cullen buries his face in his palm, shaking his head.

"Amina," Jason says, ignoring the entire thing, "this is Joey."

"I've been brushing up on my sign," Amina says. "I'm all ready."

"I'm not," Cullen says, looking absolutely miserable.

"It isn't necessary," Joey says via the phone in his pocket, and Amina jumps. "I can just talk like this."

More or less everyone looks relieved by that, and Jason can't really blame them.

"Sorry about being late," Jason says with a glance back to the car. "The appointment took longer than I thought."

"It's fine," Harper says. "We can do lunch first."

Joey wraps up his introductions with Amina before they head into the shopping plaza. There's some debate about where to go before they end up going off to the local buffet, eager to minimize one on one attention from any staff who might recognize Jason.

"So," Amina says over food, "work's been kind of swarmed, but most people cleared out when they realized you weren't there. I don't think many people have connected the Mr. Lane who's running Outreach with the Michael Lane who was on stage with you, even if they  _ absolutely _ should have."

"How can they not?" Cullen says. "Did they think it's a coincidence?"

"I mean, the mayor's a Wilson, and Jason's a Wilson, but that doesn't mean they're related," Amina says.

"They actually are," Jason says. "Distantly, but they are."

"You are totally ruining my point," Cullen says.

"So's Joey, for the record. Sort of."

"Sort of not really," Joey says. "I have no relation at all to any Wilson's in this world."

"So you're really..." Amina starts, leaning forward and dropping her voice into a whisper. "You're really from the other world? The one where nega-Bruce and nega-Slade are from?"

"Yeah," Joey says. "I guess I'm effectively nega-Joey."

"So this Slade is like... the counterpart of your dad..." Cullen asks, his face scrunching up as he tries to work it all out.

"He's not my pop," Joey says. "I'm more like a family friend. It's complicated."

"Basically we're treating him the same way we'd treat a Lantern who'd gotten stranded on earth," Jason says. "Only one who has a better feeling for the dynamics of the family."

"Sometimes I feel like it's the opposite," Joey says. "Sometimes Slade does things and I get totally caught off guard because pop never would have."

"Oh, right," Amina says. "He's still DS in your world, right?"

Joey nods, and Jason fills in for him.

"He never retired. Totally different timelines."

"The idea of him not being with Bruce is...  _ so _ weird," Harper admits. "They're practically joined at the hip here."

"Speaking of, how bad is your dad in the doghouse for that speech?" Cullen asks.

"Not too bad," Jason says. "Bruce isn't going to let him live it down anytime soon, though."

He takes a brief break from the conversation to grab himself another plate of food, keeping his head down. He gets only one stare from an employee, which he firmly ignores as he heads back to the table.

He catches Joey discussing his home dimension, so he settles in to eat, not bothering to interrupt.

"So you used to be a superhero, but now you've retired? And you can  _ fly?" _

"With the suit," Joey says. "It's not a power or anything."

"Flying is flying," Cullen says. "It's cool no matter how it happens."

"Agreed," Jason says. "If I was going to steal one of Superman's powers, it'd be flying."

There's some back and forth arguing (which he wins) over who ends up paying before they head out, heading towards the theater to debate the merits of various movies. Joey likes serious dramas, Harper wants an action movie, and in the end Cullen wins out, dragging all of them to see the latest big animated family friendly film. It's not really what Jason would have picked if he was on his own, but it serves them well enough as a big neutral movie they can all enjoy.

Jason's already counting his blessings (only one awkward person approaching him all day!) when things go sideways.

"Hey," Cullen says quietly, "can I ask you something?"

Jason's stomach flips, but he lets them fall a little bit behind where Joey, Amina, and Harper are walking so they're less likely to be overheard.

"Sure," he says. "What's up?"

"Sorry for, uh, asking you, but - is Joey - is he seeing anyone?"

Jason nearly trips over his own feet.

"Like -  _ romantically?"  _ He asks once he's caught himself.

"Yeah."

"He's been here for..." He counts back the days. Two weeks? A bit over two weeks? It's the first of may, so... fifteen days. "Half a month. So no, he hasn't started dating anyone. He's just... getting settled in."

"Does he like guys?"

"He... had a boyfriend?" Jason says. "So I think?"

It's not like he's asked. It's not like he's talked about it. The conversation feels absolutely  _ surreal, _ because for one reason or another Cullen's never really talked about  _ relationships _ with him.

"I'm going to ask," Cullen says.

_ "What?"  _ Jason asks. "He's been here two weeks!"

"Jason," Cullen says with more seriousness then Jason's used to. "Listen, I know you don't do this sort of thing, but as a gay guy... Joey is a  _ catch,  _ and I'm not missing my shot because I waited."

Jason is forced to watch in absolute horror as Cullen speeds up, heading straight for Joey. He hands back, trying not to listen because the very idea of it is the most excruciating thing he can imagine right then, and they stop at the edge of the parking lot to talk.

Amina and Harper quickly head over to join Jason, leaving them alone.

"Oh no," Harper says. "Is he doing what I think he's doing?"

"Joey's going to break his heart," Amina says.

"Which he should," Harper says. "I told him to wait. Joey's barely even settled in."

"I can't look," Jason mutters, looking away. He does his best not to listen either as Harper and Amina gossip about what they may or may not be saying. It's going to make things awkward. What if Cullen is  _ really _ upset?

"Oh," Amina says. "Here they come."

Joey expects Cullen to look devastated, but instead he looks more or less normal as he slides up to them.

"Time to go?" He says, raising his eyebrows and making absolutely no mention of what just happened.

Their goodbyes are three times as awkward as usual, and Jason barely manages to bite his tongue until they're safely in the car.

"So?" He says. "What happened?"

"He asked if we could go out," Joey says as he does up his seatbelt. "I let him down gently, and he seemed to take it pretty well. It was all pretty cordial."

"Did you tell him it was too soon? Because I told him it was too soon."

"I don't think it's too soon," Joey says, "although I've been accused of moving on too quickly. I just told him the truth: He seemed really nice, but I don't think he's my type."

Jason turns to squint at him.

"Hold on," he says. "You outright shut him down—completely told him no—and he was just fine with it? He didn't even seem upset."

"That's because he wasn't," Joey says, his eyebrows raising. "Almost everyone prefers if you're just honest with them, and him being my type or not isn't a slight against him. I didn't want to tell him it was a maybe and get his hopes up when I knew it was a no."

"But he was just... fine with it?"

"We talked a little bit, and he got over his disappointment pretty quickly. He asked if we could stay in touch, and I said I didn't have a problem with that. He seems like a nice guy."

Joey pauses, staring at Jason, and he abruptly realizes they've been sitting in a parked car for five minutes. Jason grunts, starting the car, and then starts to head back home.

"Still can't believe he did it," Jason says under his breath. "The idea of just... opening yourself up like that..."

"Rejection can feel pretty bad," Joey says, "but the results are worth it. Like, did you know he had a crush on your dad?"

"Bruce?" Jason says, happy they're stopped at a light when Joey drops  _ that _ bomb.

"Slade," he says. "Apparently he knew Slade was gay before he knew he was your dad and had the  _ biggest _ crush on him. He's apparently over it for now, but it was a hell of a shock when he found out that Slade was in love with Bruce  _ and _ your dad."

"Okay," Jason says, "that's enough revelations for right now. If you tell me one more fun fact about Cullen I'm going to end up crashing the car."

Joey laughs at that, his head tipping back, body shaking without the usual associated noise. It's apparently not something his sub-vocals can manage, but Joey does  _ mercifully _ not drop any more bombs on Jason for the rest of the ride home.


	11. Chapter 11

Almost no one's home when they get back, and Jason has to remind himself that they're probably off helping the Kents. Alfred and Wintergreen are the only people at home, and Jason finds them by peeking into the guest wing, spotting some contractors putting the finishing touches on some construction.

"Wow," he says under his breath. "Can hardly tell the place was ruined."

"Quite a lot of people have been putting in work to make it so," Alfred says. "We should be thankful that we were able to get things done so quickly."

Wintergreen chuckles under his breath, and Jason's sure he's thinking about how much money went into making things happen quickly.

"Everyone else?"

"Helping the move," Alfred confirms. "They'll be arriving to join us for dinner later today. Hopefully you haven't eaten too much?"

"Just lunch," Jason confirms as Joey shows off his temporary license to Wintergreen. "We saw a movie, and then came straight home."

"You didn't need to," Alfred says pointedly. "I won't begrudge you spending a bit more time with your friends."

"Someone needs to help you with dinner if we're having... that many people over," Jason says, trying to count how many people they're going to have off the top of his head and giving up.

"I appreciate it, even if you don't have to," Alfred says.

He absolutely  _ does, _ because there's no way he's going to just let Alfred handle everything himself. Joey obviously feels the same way, because in the end the three of them work their way through dinner prep for the eight Kents in addition to their regular seven. Wintergreen handles the end of the construction, seeing the crew out the gates before joining them in the kitchen.

"There's a bit left to do," he says. "But all things that I can manage myself. I did a fair bit of handyman work over my gears."

There's the expected level of  _ oh no I can't let you do that _ expressed by Alred, which Jason simply tunes out as he works his way through things. He's not really a  _ chef, _ but he's helped Alfred enough around the kitchen to be able to manage the individual parts, and Alfred's a master delegator.

Jason feels like they've done a damn good job by the time the procession of exhausted looking men (and Lois, who Jason thinks must feel horrifically outnumbered) comes out through the forest.

"We're going to make a walking path," Jon announces, looking no worse for the wear.

_ What Jon means it that I'm going to buy some land out back between the two houses so we can make a trail,  _ Bruce signs.

"You can already walk there pretty easily," Slade says as he kicks off his shoes. "No real path, but it's not all that hard to cut through and find it."

"Easy for  _ you," _ Lois says with a sigh. "I'd rather have a path if I'm going to be walking it with any sort of regularity. I don't want to have to hop a tree trunk."

_ I'll look into it tomorrow, _ Bruce signs, and Slade passes the information on.

Alfred makes a point of highlighting all the helpers he had for dinner before they eat, and Jason thinks he's probably making too big a deal of it.

"I really can't thank you all enough for the help," Clark says as dinner wraps up. "I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't opened your home to the boys."

"And you named them," Lois says, but despite what Jason's expecting, she looks pleased by the fact. "Here I was about to crack open a baby name book and spend the next six months trying to come up with names."

"Don't trust mom to name anything," Jon says. "She'll take forever  _ and _ second guess herself!"

"I named  _ you,"  _ Lois says. "You have to give me credit for that."

Jon grins at her, making it clear he's going to do no such thing.

"I believe," Clark says with a look towards the clones, "that the boys have something to say?"

It's painfully obvious that Clark's coached them into it rather than it being something they choose to do on their own, but no one's going to begrudge them that considering their situation. Really, Jason thinks they're doing pretty amazingly considering what they've gone through.

Which is nothing, he supposes, because they've been alive less than a week. But even still, he can sympathize with them feeling lost and out of place.

"Thank you for taking care of us," Ren says, and the other boys nod enthusiastically to support their brother's statement. Clark doesn't look impressed, but lets it go without argument.

"Of course," Slade says. "You're welcome anytime."

"I'm afraid you've spoiled them for food," Lois says. "Our cooking definitely can't stand up to Alfreds."

"I'm sure they'll be appreciative of whatever you make them," Damian says, giving the clones a pointed look which none of them return. 

"You'll have to come for a tour sometime," Clark says, glancing between Jason and Joey. "Everyone's been very helpful for the move."

"The house feels more like a home than our apartment did for the first two months of living there," Lois says with a small laugh.

"We had things in boxes for months after the move..." Clark admits.

"Any things which are not appropriately unboxed within two weeks should be disposed of, either via donation or otherwise," Damian says.

"Good advice," Slade says. "If a bit unrealistic."

Damian  _ humphs _ and goes back to his food.

Jason can't help but feel quietly anxious, and when the meal wraps up he decides to ask rather than dwelling on it in silence.

"So," he says, "has anyone talked to the League? About... everything else that has happened? Is happening?"

"I'm afraid I've been busy," Clark says. "I've left everything with Diana and the others."

Bruce's face pinched with worry, and he reaches out, rubbing his shoulder lightly.

"I know you're worried," Bruce says, his voice soft to minimize the movement. "I'll tell you the moment I hear anything, and I'll talk to Diana tomorrow morning to see if we can get an update."

Jason makes himself exhale, counting out his breaths before leaning lightly against Bruce, careful to avoid his injured ribs.

"Sorry," he says. "I know you - I know you're doing what you can."

"We're not going to fault you for being worried," Slade says.

Clark clears his throat, and Jason feels suddenly self conscious for having been so... so  _ upset _ in front of him. Even if Clark's never been anything but kind, it feels deeply personal anyway.

"We should probably get going," he says. "I'm hoping to spend a bit of time with the boys one on one before we get to sleep. Get to know them a bit better."

"Ren's protective of his brothers," Jason says. "Blue seems to like animals, or at least dogs, because I catch him staring at Titus a lot. Yen's a talker... I haven't got much from Ore or Gar."

_ Yen seems interested in books, _ Joey signs, and Slade relays the message.

"Gar doesn't seem interested in anything," Wintergreen points out. "I think he's the... pessimistic one out of all of them."

"Helpful," Lois says. "I'm going to go grab the boys so we can go."

She heads out back to where Jon, Damian, and the clones are playing a game of tag Jason can't begin to follow, and everyone else trails out after her.

"Oh no," she says, glancing over her shoulder. "Please tell me we're not taking the forest back."

"I was going to fly," Clark says. "I can carry you, and the boys can take themselves. It's dark enough we won't be spotted."

Lois lets out a sigh of relief.

"Say goodbye, boys," Clark says as he gathers Lois up.

"Goodbye," Blue says with a small nod, and everyone else—including Jon—chime in.

"I will visit tomorrow," Damian tells Jon quietly. "Do not worry." 

They see them off, and it's only once they head back into the house that Slade gently catches his arm, pulling him aside, his expression pinched with concern. 

"How about we watch a movie tonight?" He says. "Just... fall asleep-"

"You don't need to," Jason says. "Spend the night with Bruce. I can sleep in my own room."

Slade grunts.

"If you aren't asleep in two hours," he says, "come knock, alright? Just once, and I'll sit up with you, or whatever you want."

"I know," he says. "I'm fine. It was just... it was just one night. I'll be fine."

Despite all his reassurances, he spends the first hour buried in anxiety, his mind running a mile a minute. He doesn't make it through the second hour though: instead, he finds himself falling asleep, succumbing to his exhaustion after a long day whether he means to or not.


	12. Chapter 12

If Jason dreams that night, he doesn't remember it. When he wakes the following morning, it's to his alarm, and he rolls out of bed feeling better then he's felt the last few days.

When he gets to the kitchen, he finds Bruce eating oatmeal under Alfred's watchful eye, sulking the entire time.

"What's the plan for today?" Jason asks, and Bruce pins the spoon between his teeth to sign a response.

_ Court, _ he signs.  _ Then I'm meeting with Diana to talk about things. _

Jason knows that  _ things _ means  _ Thomas, _ and nods his understanding.

"It's strange," Damian announces as he arrives. "I was just getting used to having Jon's brothers here."

"I do not envy Mrs. Lane," Alfred says. "She has quite a task ahead of her."

Slade arrives with a phone in hand, gesturing with it in his hand.

"House just closed," he says. "We officially own the Whit house now."

"Wait," Jason says.  _ "We _ own it?"

_ I couldn't risk drawing attention to the fact that we know them, _ Bruce signs.  _ It'll be transferred into their names when things quiet down. _

Jason can't argue that, even if it feels a bit weird to him.

Alfred recruits Jason's help cleaning out the guest wing while Wintergreen handles some final repairs, and Joey and Damian work on  _ something artistic _ out on the back porch. It's easy work, but intensive enough to keep Jason's mind from wandering too much while he does it. They have to strip out the sheets for all five beds, double check for anything left behind, and then vacuum the floors.

"Master Jason," Alfred says softly when they're nearly done, and Jason's stomach flips. He knows that tone of voice. That tone of voice means Alfred's about to say something he doesn't want to hear.

"No," Jason says. "We're leaving the room as is. Thomas will want it when he comes back."

Alfred's lips pinch together, his face the picture of concern. Jason tries to remember that Alfred doesn't  _ want _ to hurt him, even if what he's doing is absolutely going to do just that.

"Why don't we sit down."

Jason doesn't want to sit down. He doesn't want to do anything. But he lets Alfred guide him out of the guest wing anyway, helping settle him down in front of the kitchen island, and tries not to let his anxiety get the best of him as Alfred sets down a glass of water just in front of him, just in case he needs it.

"Bruce put you up to this," Jason says quietly. He tries not to make it sound like an accusation, but he's sure it comes across that way anyway.

"I put myself up to this, I'm afraid," Alfred says. "Although I imagine that Master Bruce has similar concerns." He pauses, and then takes a seat beside Jason.

That's when Jason knows it's going to be really bad. Every lecture Alfred's ever given him has been delivered while standing, and the fact that this  _ wasn't _ is so far beyond unsettling Jason can't even put it into words.

"I think you need to be honest with yourself about what's happening with Mister Wayne," Alfred says. "I think you know he won't be returning to his room anytime soon."

He doesn't want to say it. He doesn't want to admit it, so he twists his head to the side, refusing to look at Alfred right then.

"It's my fault," he says. "If I hadn't frozen up, this wouldn't have happened."

"No," Alfred says, his voice a thousand times more firm than it has any right to be. "I will not sit here and listen to your blame yourself for this. I do not wish to say that what happened to Mister Wayne was inevitable, but the fact of the matter is that it had everything to do with him and his issues, and precious little to do with you and yours. There was no question in my mind that he would eventually push too far, and I feared that he would do so in such a way that would estrange him from the family forever. He was a hard man, from a hard world, and while I cannot in good conscience place the blame entirely on his shoulders, I can absolutely count my blessings that things did not go much worse."

"How could it be worse?" Jason says, the words stuck in his throat. "He - he  _ killed _ someone. He killed someone for me and now he's taking all the blame!"

"Mister Wayne did not have to kill. He killed because killing is what he knows. Because killing is a habit for him. There are many ways he could have ended the situation without taking a life, and yet he did not pursue any of them, because killing is and has always been his first response to a situation like the one he found himself in. None of that is your fault."

Alfred stops, reaching forward to rest a hand on Jason's shoulder, and Jason jerks away, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

"You should be happy that you gave him something which he cared enough to protect."

"He's going to - he's going to go to jail," Jason says, because it's the truth whether he wants to admit it or not.

"Yes," Alfred says. "But he'll go having killed to protect someone else, with the full knowledge that he has people waiting for him outside once he's finished his time. He'll have visitors and the comfort of family, and when he comes out he will be a much different man."

Jason buries his face in his hands, and when Alfred wraps an arm around his shoulders, he breaks down. He's known. He's known since the moment Thomas pulled the trigger that he'd crossed the line. A line Jason himself had already crossed, the line that separates them from the monsters they fought.

He's on the wrong side of the line and that feels wrong. It feels so,  _ so _ wrong.

"Oh, my dear boy," Alfred says quietly. "I know it hurts. I wish with all my heart that it had gone another way. But this is the hand we've been dealt, and we must make the best of it."

"I was the same," Jason says, his voice sounding broken even to himself. He buries his face in Alfred's shoulder, trying to bury the guilt he feels. "I killed people too. I killed - I killed a lot of people."

He can't even be sure how many. How many people has he killed? How many bodies have been buried?

"This isn't about who he has or has not killed," Alfred says, pulling away so he can look Jason straight in the face. "I know you must be feeling guilt. I won't say that you should not. But almost everyone in this house has taken a life at one time or another, and I would be deeply hypocritical to say that Mister Wayne deserves to be put behind bars for having taken a life. He is there for two reasons, and two reasons alone: to protect the status quo which has allowed this family to retire without facing prosecution for your acts of vigilantism, and because of his  _ willingness _ to kill."

Jason doesn't know what to say to that. The guilt is still there, threatening to drown him, but Alfred's always been a master of talking him through things, and he makes himself breathe, trying to remember that. He's not alone. He's not the only one.

"I have not a shred of doubt in my entire body about how you feel about killing," Alfred says. "I know that you would never, ever kill, not unless you absolutely had to. Not unless it was the only option, and you had to in order to save lives. Of that, I have absolutely no doubt, and  _ that _ is the reason why I believe that Master Bruce is willing to go along with it. To give Mister Wayne  _ time. _ Time to... adjust to this world. To learn to come to terms with himself. To visit with his family without having to worry that he will take matters into his own hands and hurt someone again."

There's a noise in the doorway and Jason whips around, face burning. Someone just walked in on them (or almost did) before furiously backpedaling, and he's just sitting there, eyes red and puffy, crying like a child.

"You may as well come in," Alfred says. "I think the damage of the interruption is already done."

It's worse than he thought: Joey  _ and _ Damian turn the corner when beckoned by Alfred. Joey's arms are loaded with art supplies, and Damian's face looks pinched with worry.

"Something has happened," Damian says. "Who was hurt?"

"No," Jason says. "No - it's not - it isn't like that."

Damian scoots right over, wrapping his arms around Jason's torso and pulling him into a squeeze.

"You are upset," he says quietly. 

"Yeah," Jason croaks. "Just... it's a lot. Sorry, I wasn't trying to - I didn't want to worry you."

Damian buries his face against Jason's chest, and Jason wraps his arms around Damian's back.

"I think I'm going to - to go lie down," Jason says. He doesn't want to see what kind of look Joey's giving him right then, and burying himself in his own bed seems like a good idea right then.

"I'll come with you," Damian says. "I don't want you to be alone."

Damian's head tilts back, his eyes wide and worried, and Jason doesn't have the heart to turn him down.

"...Alright," he finally says. "I'll see you all... all later."

Damian releases him, grabbing his hand before starting to tow him back to the rooms without another word.


	13. Chapter 13

Damian's asleep the moment he hits Jason's bed, and Jason simply lets him sleep, curled up against Jason's side. The stress has been wearing on all of them, and even if Damian hasn't shown much reaction to it, Jason's pretty sure that has more to do with how much Damian's  _ already _ been through then what he just went through.

After you've spent your childhood being trained by the League, nothing else really seems to count.

He spends the afternoon there, curled against his brother, his mind wandering. 

He knows that Alfred's right. Alfred is, as far as he's concerned, more or less always right. Thomas choosing to kill Harley had little to do with him and everything to do with Thomas himself, but the thought of it still makes his stomach twist, his arm hooking around Damian to pull him closer.

He's still worried. Even if he shouldn't be. The idea of Thomas being alone and abandoned in prison strikes too close to home for him, even if the situations are miles apart. 

Someone knocks at the door, and Jason closes his eyes, feigning sleep. There's a pause, and then someone—either Slade or Bruce—opens the door, closing it behind them before walking over to the bed.

"I know you're faking," Slade says quietly, and Jason cracks an eye open.

"He's asleep," Jason says quietly. "I wanted to let him keep being asleep."

"He's also faking," Slade says with a snort, and Jason scowls when Damian shifts ins his arms, his own eyes cracking open.

"You could have told me you were up," Jason mutters under his breath, but there's no real anger to it. He can't blame Damian for wanting that last bit of physical comfort, and with the two of them awake Damian pulls away, sitting up straight. Slade reaches over to ruffle Damian's hair, and Damian swats his hand away.

"Going to let me talk to your brother?"

"Only under protest," Damian says. "He needs more time and fewer serious talks."

"Mmm," Slade says, obviously not agreeing. "This will be the last one for a while, I promise."

Damian turns, fixing Jason with an intense look.

"If he bothers you," Damian says, "you need only yell, and I will come rescue you from  _ another _ one of these talks."

Slade laughs as Damian leaves, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking Jason over.

"Alfred already talked to you," Jason says. It isn't a question.

"Sure did," he says. "We had a sit down talk about it. Your father and I are worried about you. Everything that's happened has been... a lot."

"Just tell me what he learned," Jason says, because he knows that's coming and he wants to get it ouf of the way.

"Everything that happened with Thomas is being kept very... hush hush, for obvious reasons. He accepted a plea deal this morning-"

"What?!" Jason asks, sitting up straighter. "Did he have-"

"Yes," Slade says, reaching out to rest a hand on Jason's arm to calm him. "ARGUS is helping with things, and they had lawyers look things over. He's accepting a reduced sentence and no mention of our involvement in exchange for a plea. The government doesn't want to make this a... a  _ thing. _ It could go really badly for us, or it could go really badly for them, but if this were to go to trial, no one would win."

It feels wrong. It feels wrong on so many levels, and he has to fight the sick feeling building up inside of him.

"I don't-" Jason chokes. "I don't want him - where is he going?" He can't tell what's worse: That he might be far away and hard to visit, or that he might be near enough to visit regularly... and also housed with  _ Gotham's finest. _

"Blackgate," Slade says. "Medium security wing. Normally he'd be in high security, but considering his age and lack of a criminal history, part of his plea was medium security."

Jason sags. Blackgate. Blackgate, but not with the people he worried about. He'll share a  _ facility _ with monsters like Black Mask and Penguin, but he's not going to be  _ with _ them.

"If anything, I feel a bit bad for them. You know someone's going to go after him, and he's going to put them down," Slade says, cracking a smile.

Jason doesn't smile back, and Slade's face falls.

"Your father and I want to talk with you sometime tonight," he says. "You think you're up to it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Slade frowns at him.

"You do," he says. "Even if it doesn't feel like it."

Jason feels a pang of regret for being so glib. They've never been anything but accomodating.

"...We can talk," Jason says. "Now?"

"I'll get your father," Slade says. "Just give me a minute."

Slade doesn't leave. Instead, he simply pulls out his phone, texting Bruce. The fact that Bruce takes less than a minute to knock at the door and let himself in means he was almost definitely waiting just down the hall, and Jason's stomach sinks as Bruce comes in, settling down on the bed on the other side of him.

He feels hemmed in.

"Your father and I are worried that... things are getting to be a bit much to you. We thought a vacation might be nice."

A vacation. It's hard not to immediately have his mind spin off to all the negative implications of it, and his lips press tight together.

"You're kicking me out," Jason says quietly.

"No!" Bruce says, wincing in pain. "No," he says again, much quieter. "I'm worried that you have too much going on."

"That you..." Slade pauses, taking a deep breath. "You're getting overwhelmed. If I had a choice, I'd take you with me right now and we could go hang out in Hawaii on the beach. But we've got too much going on to do that."

"So you want just me to go."

"Damian probably won't want to go," Slade says. "Not with Jon just having moved nearby. I was thinking Joey, and I'll see if Dick is able to go. A boys trip."

A vacation. Jason doesn't respond right away, letting himself run through the idea. It's not  _ bad,  _ necessarily. He could probably use a break. But it feels too much like running away. There's too much going on.

"How set are you on this idea?" Jason asks, and Slade and Bruce exchange a glance.

"We're not going to force you," Bruce says quietly, wrapping an arm around Jason's shoulders. "We're just... putting it forward as an idea. To get you away from the paparazzi and everything that's happening."

To get away from people recognizing him. From the news, and the tension, and... everything.

He sighs and nods.

"I'll... can you give me a little bit to think about it?"

"Of course," Slade says, leaning over to kiss the top of his head. "Take your time, alright? I'll give Dick a call and see if he's free."

Considering Dick's supposed to be buying a gym and effectively restarting his life, Jason doubts he's going to be down for a beach vacation.

_ And a passport, _ Bruce signs as they leave him in his room.

Jason sinks back into his bed, staring up at the ceiling, and tries to let himself think.


	14. Chapter 14

The answer comes easier to him then it should, and he sends out a few texts before finally deciding he's ready. It's been less than thirty minutes when he heads out into the manor itself. He catches Slade on the phone in the entranceway, and Slade mouths  _ Dick _ to make it clear who he's talking to as Jason heads to the living room.

_ Jason, _ Bruce signs.  _ We weren't expecting you so soon. _

"Father says you may be going on a trip," Damian says, looking him over. "He thought it would be necessary to warn me, as if I could not be away from you for a few days."

"More like he was worried you'd want to go," Slade says, "and wanted to rule that out."

"Jon will need me," Damian says. "He has never been a brother before, and will need someone with experience to guide him."

Jason rolls his eyes, and Joey lifts his hand to hide a smile.

_ Dick? _ Bruce signs.

"Dick can't go," he says. "He has commitments, and he says he's not sure if he'll be free for... at least a month. Definitely can't go galavanting."

"Can Joey even go?" Jason asks. "His ID-"

_ I have a passport, _ Joey signs.  _ Don't worry about that. _

"Why not make it a trip for Master Jason and his friends?" Alfred suggests. "Perhaps the Rows or Miss Franklin might wish to join them."

"Have you given any thought for where you want to go?" Slade asks. "You're past spring break, but before summer vacation starts, so most resorts are going to be pretty empty. Could hit up a resort town."

_ Or snowboarding, _ Bruce signs.  _ The winter always agreed with you. _

"Basically, wherever you want to go, just let us know," Slade says.

"I was thinking Santa Prisca," Jason says.

"Absolutely not," Slade blurts right as Bruce sighs and buries his face in his hands.

"You said  _ wherever you want to go,"  _ Jason says pointedly. His mind is already made up. The text's already sent. He's going.

"Last time I make a blanket statement around you," Slade mutters under his breath.

_ Santa Prisca is dangerous, _ Bruce signs.  _ The point of this trip is to get you away from all this, not put you into an even worse situation. _

"The crime rate is actually decreasing as of late," Damian points out, and Jason shoots him a grin which he returns.

"It's decreasing because Bane is sitting on top of a pile of bodies," Slade says. "Don't try and pretend it's anything else."

_ Is this about the bear? _ Bruce signs, leaving Alfred, Damian, and Joey looking absolutely perplexed.

"It's a part of it," he says. "I want to return it."

"Jason," Slade says, taking a deep breath that means he's giving something a lot of thought and doesn't quite like the answer he's reached. "You realize that Santa Prisca can be dangerous, and that it is entirely possible that Bane's entire apology was a sham, right?"

"It wasn't a-"

"Think this through. Do you or do you not recognize that?"

He doesn't think it's a sham. There's too many elements involved for it to be a believable story. Bane had no way of knowing who he was, or where he was. He didn't have any way to connect things. But he understands what Slade's getting at, and he nods.

"I understand this is taking a risk," Jason says. "I just think it's a risk that's worth taking."

_ You absolutely cannot think this is an okay idea, _ Bruce signs at Slade, and Slade sighs, reaching up to rub at his face.

"I don't think it is," Slade says. "But I know Jason, and I know that if we say no, he's going to say he changed his mind, get us to buy him a ticket to Florida, and then hop the first plane to Santa Prisca. Once his mind's made up, there's no changing it."

"I wonder where he got his stubbornness from," Alfred says, as if he has no idea at all.

Bruce grunts.

_ I can't go, _ he signs.  _ I have a consult with a world class surgeon tomorrow to see if he can't minimize the muscle damage in my face. And I need to testify. _

"I'm not sending just you and Joey," Slade says. "And if you're going to go deal with Bane, I'm not sending your friends."

"Perhaps I can be of assistance," Wintergreen says. "While I am certainly not on Slade's level, I can certainly hold my own against a moderate amount of danger. I could... chaperone, as it were."

This was the part Jason wasn't sure they'd buy. Going to Santa Prisca is one thing. Going to Santa Prisca with  _ just _ Joey?

A thought occurs to him, and Jason cringes, glancing to Joey.

"I didn't even ask," he says. "You might not want to-"

_ I'll go, _ Joey signs.  _ I've got my suit to help as needed, and there's no way I'm going to miss this... or let you go alone. _

"Your father and I have terms," Slade says, exchanging a glance with Bruce.

_ You're going with trackers, _ Bruce says.  _ Implanted. And you're going to stay in regular contact. If you stop responding, I'm sending Clark to pick you up. _

Jason wants to say that it's excessive—what kind of father implants a GPS tracker in their son?—but considering where they're going and who they're going to meet, Jason can't exactly object. If anything, he finds it almost comforting. He doesn't think Bane's going to do anything (especially not with Jason bringing his bear back), but it's a little bit of insurance he can't deny.

"When can we go?"

Bruce sighs and pulls out his phone, before realizing the issue and handing the phone over to Slade.

_ Call my travel agent, _ he signs.  _ Explain the gist of the situation. _

"Got it," Slade says, taking the phone and doing just that.

"Wow," Damian says. "I can't believe you talked them into it."

_ I'd rather he not sneak off, _ Bruce signs.  _ At least this way I can keep track of them. _

"Wow," Damian says, turning to Jason. "I can't believe you're going to let them track you."

Jason offers only a shrug. It seems like a small compromise to make, considering what he's asked of them.

"Well," Alfred says, "It would seem I'm going to have to make this dinner particularly special, since you will most likely be leaving before I get a chance to make another."


	15. Chapter 15

Packing everything he needs for a few days in Santa Prisca takes less than a half hour. He's good at packing everything into a small space, and the fact that they're flying commercial (Bruce nixes using the private jet for an international flight) limits what he can bring. He grabs a small roller bag, packing his wetsuit, some clothes, the bear, and very little else. He's mostly a hand to hand fighter anyway, so weapons aren't a concern.

Not that they're a concern anyway.

Joey and Wintergreen take longer to pack than he does, and Jason gets the flight information from Bruce before submitting himself to some mild topical sedation to have the tracker implanted in his upper arm.

"This is coming out, right?" He asks, and Bruce rolls his eyes.

_ Yes, _ he signs once he's set his tools down.  _ You can have it out when you get back. _

"I always used to wonder if you tracked me," Jason says, "when I was younger, I meant."

_ No,  _ Bruce signs.  _ Tim when he first joined. I was... not in a good place mentally. _

"Does he still have it?" Jason asks, trying not to be amused by the idea of a tracker still in Tim, forgotten by everyone.

_ I removed it,  _ Bruce signs.  _ I realized that it was going too far. _

"Ah," Jason says. "You mean like the one you put in my grapple gun when I went to Star City."

Bruce freezes, a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Jason probably shouldn't be amused by the whole thing, because  _ tracking your kids while they go on vacation _ is serious, but Bruce's reaction is practically picture perfect. He looks so  _ guilty _ that it loops right into funny.

"Did you think I wasn't going to take it apart to figure out how it worked?"

_ I was worried, _ Bruce signs, each gesture making it clear how nervous he is.

"I get that," Jason says. "And it was one time, and the first time I'd left Gotham since I got back without you, so I'm not going to hold it against you."

He pauses, then squints at Bruce.

"It was just the one time, right?"

Bruce nods enthusiastically.

"It had better be," Jason says, tapping the injection site. "This is a one time thing. As... thanks for trusting me enough to let me go."

_ You're an adult, _ Bruce signs.  _ Slade's right, I couldn't stop you if I tried. _

Jason leans over, kissing Bruce's temple, and then heads upstairs to check on Joey and Wintergreen.

Slade drops them off the following morning, and Jason thinks he's gotten off pretty much scott free until they pull up in front of the airport and Slade locks the doors, turning to look at him.

"So," he says. "When were you going to tell me?"

Busted. It's not as if he needed to hide it from Slade, but Bruce was another matter entirely.

"I wasn't," Jason says. "Bruce, though..."

Slade rolls his eye.

"They told me, for the record," he says.  _ "They _ assumed I knew. So you make it clear to them: If any of you get kidnapped, I will pay them a truckload of money to retrieve you."

"I'll let them know," Jason says, popping the lock manually and climbing out. Slade unlocks the car, and helps them unload their luggage before pulling Jason into a crushing hug.

"Let me be clear," he says. "If you get hurt, I  _ am _ making Superman carry me to Santa Prisca to come get you."

"I get it," Jason wheezes, and Slade finally releases him, turning to say his goodbyes to Joey and Wintergreen.

Jason has to admit he's kind of amused by the fact that neither seems at all surprised by the speed the arrangements were made at, but then Wintergreen is used to dealing with Slade, and Joey's family is, as far as he can tell, fairly rich themselves.

With a hoodie, sunglasses, and a Gotham Knights baseball cap, Jason's pretty sure he's going to be recognized as the unabomber before he's recognized as Jason Todd, and he manages to make it all the way to customs without anyone recognizing him.

"Jason Wilson-Wayne?" The officer says, her eyes flicking up to inspect his face as he pulls the sunglasses off. "...Raptor?"

"That's the one," Jason says.

"...Reason for visit?"

"Vacation," he says. "I'd rather avoid the paparazzi, and my father knows the owner of a resort who was willing to give me some privacy."

The customs agents eyes flick between his face and his passport.

"Anything to declare?"

Jason wonders if she's expecting him to say he's brought the batsuit, and decides the answer is probably yes.

"Nope," he says. "I packed light."

They go through his suitcase anyway, emptying it completely before searching the body itself looking for secret compartments.

"Really," Jason says. "It's just vacation."

He was expecting this sort of a reaction, which is why Joey and Wintergreen took a different line. Out of the corner of his eye he can see them advancing, and watches with mild interest as Joey (who  _ does _ have his suit in his bag) and Wintergreen talk with security.

"He's clear," the agent says, watching as Jason repacks his bag, making sure the bear goes right in the middle before heading for his gate.

"So," he says when he reaches Joey, "how'd that go?"

_ Suit is an assistive device, _ Joey signs.  _ Showed them the scar on my neck, no one batted an eye. _

"They raise an eyebrow at your name?"

_ Said I was a relative of the mayor, _ Joey says with a grin.

If there's one thing he's learned about Joey, it's that he can be  _ damned _ sneaky when he wants to.

The rest of their party is already waiting at their gate. French, Alvarez, Doyle and Cho are settled in, and French flips down his sunglasses when he spots them.

"Took you long enough," he says. "Didn't know you were bringing friends."

Jason can't even figure out how he wants to explain Joey, so he goes to introduce Wintergreen, only to have the older man offer his hand to French first.

"Denali," he says. "I believe we've spoken on the phone once."

"Oh!" Cho says. "The big boss's manager. He coming?"

"Has to stay home," Jason says.

"How's your dad?" Doyle asks, and it takes Jason a second to realize he's asking about Bruce, not Slade.

"Alright," Jason says. "Going in for a surgical consult for his face today."

Doyle cringes, and he's not the only one.

"Sorry to hear that," French says. "So you said you were coming along with us...?"

"Just for a meet and greet," Jason says. "We won't be staying."

Doyle lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. "You've got balls, baby boss."

Cho rolls his eyes at the nickname, and redirects the conversation to more airport friendly topics, nodding his head towards Joey.

"Who's he?"

Joey offers a hand, not bothering with his phone right then.

"That's Joey," Jason says. "Family friend. He's mute."

"Not an issue," French says. "We've got fingerspelling, at least."

_ I can adjust, _ Joey signs, but it's slower, spelling out each word letter by letter. It seems like a pain compared to how he normally signs, and Jason winces sympathetically.

"Ah shit," Cho says. "I think they just called us for boarding."

It turns out that French and the rest are at the very,  _ very  _ back of the plane, and Alvarez complains the whole time as they wait about the fact that French is too cheap to get them decent tickets. Jason, on the other hand, is settled right at the front in first class, getting served a nice lunch with his pick of the in-flight entertainment options.

Not that he uses it. Jason gives Wintergreen and Joey some warning, waits till they're at cruising altitude, and passes right out.

He wakes hours later when the wheels hit pavement, jerking awake to find he's missed the whole flight. Not the first time he's slept through a flight, but the first time in a while.

They pass through security to find a man with a  _ Wilson Party _ sign. Jason's not surprised to see them, but does go through his usual security checks to confirm he was  _ actually _ sent by Bruce and Slade and not just someone trying to intercept.

"So what's the plan?" French asks. "We've got a meeting later this afternoon in town."

"We're going to drop our stuff," Jason says, "and then we'll meet you there."

"Works for us," French says. "I need to meet a contact and pick up our gear."

Jason wasn't lying when he said Bruce knew a guy. He's never been to this particular resort, but apparently the owner's told management to roll out the red carpet, because when they arrive at the resort, the manager manager is waiting for them with drinks, snacks, and a room for each of them. Jason would probably feel bad if it weren't the off season, and the resort seems relatively empty as the manager tours them around.

"So," he says, glancing between the three of them. "Any plans? Activities?"

"Do you do scuba tours?" Jason asks. Even if he has very,  _ very _ specific plans, they're booked to be there for a few days, and he's not going to skip the change. Santa Prisca has great beaches and a reef not far out, and he's not going to miss his chance.

He somehow doubts Bruce is going to be taking them to Santa Prisca for a family vacation anytime soon.

"Of course," the manager says. "Shall I book the three of you for tomorrow?"

"I'll pass," Wintergreen says. "I am perfectly content with burning myself to a crisp beside the pool."

_ Old man, _ Joey signs with a grin.

"Will you be joining?" The manager asks Joey, and Joey thinks about it before shrugging and offering a nod. If the manager thinks the fact that he isn't talking is strange, he keeps it to himself.

Jason's room looks out over the ocean with a bed large enough that his first thought is  _ wow, all five clones could fit on that comfortably, _ and he flops down on the bed, sprawling out just to prove it to himself.

Everything's going nicely - he just has to hope it stays that way.


	16. Chapter 16

Jason doesn't spend too long around his room. He double checks to make sure there aren't any cameras (doubtful, considering the resort often caters to the ultra-rich who value their privacy), then digs through his bag to grab the bear, storing it safely in a drawstring bag which he pulls onto his back along with other essentials.

It's hot. It's only May, but it's  _ hot, _ and Jason makes sure he's got sunscreen on before he steps outside, baseball hat and sunglasses back in place. He's nearly out the door when he remembers to check in with Bruce via text, getting a small lecture about checking in  _ sooner _ rather than  _ later. _

"This is quite a nice resort," Wintergreen says when he joins the two of them down in the lobby. "Fancier than most I've been at."

Wintergreen's changed into shorts, looking  _ remarkably _ like the ordinary American tourist he absolutely is not. Joey, on the other hand, has long sleeves and jeans to match Jason's own, and Jason resists the urge to ask in public if he's got his suit on... before realizing that the odds that anyone in the resort knows ASL have to be microscopic.

_ Ikon suit?  _ He signs, and Joey nods.

"Alright," Wintergreen says. "I have a contact in town who can give us some updates, so why don't we go see the sights?"

They take a taxi from the resort into town proper, and get a whole bunch of helpful advice about which areas to avoid as tourists which they promptly ignore. Wintergreen's fluent in Spanish, and Jason's at least passable. They find Wintergreen's contact in an open-air bar, and they immediately drop into some sort of dialect that's completely unintelligible to Jason.

Apparently to Joey too, because he offers Jason a shrug. They end up grabbing a seat a little bit down from Wintergreen, ordering a drink that tastes like coconuts and doesn't have much alcohol in it. Jason doesn't even want to get to the point of  _ lightly buzzed, _ so they end up sharing one while they wait.

Wintergreen joins them after about a half hour, and Jason drops some cash as they head out of the bar.

"So?"

"I have the lay of the land," Wintergreen says. "It's about what we've heard. Peña Dura is defunct, torn down by..." Wintergreen offers a small smile, making air quotes with his fingers. "Unidentified members of the criminal underworld. There are still heavy issues with corruption, especially amongst the police and politicians, but the general sentiment is that change is happening, however slow."

"What's this I hear about drug lord heads?"

"Nowhere near here," Wintergreen says. "There's a bay on the west side of the island where, in the days before the island had an airport, all new arrivals to the island would dock. It still has significance culturally as the place where outsiders should, in theory, see first."

_ So he put a bunch of heads there? _ Joey signs.

"Exactly," Wintergreen says. "Ghastly stuff, but certainly effective as a deterrent. There's something to be said about shock and awe, and effectively  _ starting _ his war that way swung things in his favor rather quickly. From what my contact said, Bane has a majority control of the island at this point. There are only a few places where his influence doesn't extend, and most criminal activity is carried out in absolute secrecy in an attempt to hide it from him."

"So," Jason says, "all that sounds solid. What's our plan?"

"Meet your friends. They've expressed an interest in the contract, so they'll have a meeting arranged with... Well, if it were anyone else I'd expect an intermediary, but Bane seems particularly hands on, so I suspect they'll be taken straight to him."

"So we tag along?"

"That would be the idea," Wintergreen says. "If you mentioned being a friend, they would likely take you with the understanding that if you are lying, you'll be killed. You don't have any weapons?"

"Just my fists," Jason says with a shrug.

_ The suit, _ Joey signs.  _ But they won't know what it is. _

"Good enough," Wintergreen says. "It is entirely possible they won't allow me to accompany you, however, in which case I will meet you back here." He gestures to the plaza they're standing in, the large fountain a clear enough marker.

"Wait," Jason says. "Why? Does he know you?"

"I would be disappointed if he doesn't know  _ of _ me, even if we've never met," Wintergreen says. "While I believe his protection extends to you and your friend, it may not extend to your father's broker, and I do not intend to test his hospitality by lying to his face about my identity."

_ So if he says you need to stay, you'll stay? _ Joey signs.

"That would be the plan, yes."

"Enjoy the lecture from Bruce," Jason says with a sigh.

"Not worth worrying about until we know for sure," Wintergreen says. "I would recommend making contact with your friends."

Jason does, calling French directly, and then mills about through the more touristy side of things until the team shows up. They look largely inconspicuous, only the size of their backpacks giving anything away.

"Baby Boss," Doyle calls, and Jason groans.

_ "Please,"  _ he says. "Can you at least try and be professional?"

"We're only professional if you pay us," Avarez says with a grin. "And you're not."

"For the record," Jason says, "if I do end up kidnapped, Slade says he'll drop, and this is an exact quote, 'a truckload of money' on you in exchange for my rescue."

"I'd be genuinely disappointed if you needed us to rescue you," French says. "Not sure you'd ever be able to live it down."

Jason's not sure he can roll his eyes any harder, but he tries.

Jason expects their contact to reach out to them almost immediately, but they've been milling about the tourist areas for almost an hour when someone finally does, a short, stocky man with a wide smile.

"Ah, my tour group!" He says. "It is good to see you are on time, although your party is larger than usual."

The man looks completely ordinary. He could have been following them since they arrived through the crowded part of the city and they wouldn't have noticed a thing. That's the problem with tourist areas: too many eyes, and too many people gawking at things they shouldn't be to pick anyone else.

"Of course," French says, "hopefully that will not be an issue. They are friends."

"Of course, no issue," the man says automatically. "This way."

He leads them to an actual honest to god tour bus, and Jason can't decide if it's a real tour bus Bane's borrowed, or if the entire tour company (whose logos and branding look entirely legitimate) is completely fraudulent.

It's once they get  _ onto _ the bus that things get a bit more concerning. Out of sight of anyone who could oversee, the facade falls away. There are men on the bus, four people with guns, and even if he's in a bulletproof suit, Joey goes stiff beside him. Wintergreen is cool as a cucumber, grabbing a seat without complaint.

"We will go to a place not far from here," their guide says. "There you will be searched, and then we will carry on. I have been told you are a friend of his, and that he will not object to you accompanying us. If this is a lie, you will suffer for it."

"Not a lie," Jason says with confidence he shouldn't have. It's not like he's sat down and  _ talked _ with Bane about it, but he's sure the gift in his bag will be enough to ease any potential awkwardness.

The place they're driven to isn't a  _ place _ so much as it is a  _ field. _ They're unloaded from the bus and searched. It's, if Jason is being honest with himself, deeply uncomfortable being manhandled that way, but it's not as if it's the first time, and at the very least they're professional about it. The team with their backpacks are searched separately, their weapons confiscated with promises that they'll be returned once business is done, and things are going more or less without issue right up until one of the man grabs his bag and goes to rifle through it.

"No," Jason says. He's acting entirely on instinct—his little shoulder angel that he imagines probably looks a lot like Bruce is screaming at him to just let him search the bag—but he doesn't like the idea of Bane's men finding the bear. "That's for him alone."

There's an exchange of words between the men in a language that is absolutely not Spanish. They run a metal detecting wand over it, and then offer shrugs to each other.

"It's your head if he takes issue with it," one says, and Jason wonders if he might be pushing the boundaries of hospitality too far.

Jason's bag is returned to him, but his phone and everything else is kept separate from them.

They're loaded back into the bus.

_ You alright? _ Joey signs, and Jason nods. The trip's been carried out mostly in silence, so Jason responds in kind.

_ Fine, _ he signs back.  _ I'm not worried, just adjusting to the change. _ He tries to make a point of showing it, because he's not. He doesn't think Bane is going to do anything, but there's still something unnerving about driving off into the Santa Prisca countryside to meet him.


	17. Chapter 17

The reason for the tour bus becomes clearer when they finally reach their destination. It's an old Spanish fort, looking all the world like a historical site that tourists might visit. Jason doubts that it fools the  _ locals, _ but it would certainly pass muster for any outsiders trying to snoop. Joey's face is practically pressed to the window, gawking at the fort, and Jason taps him on the shoulder as one of the men with guns comes to fetch them.

They're lead through the fort's doors to a large open area in order to meet Bane's men.

If he was someone else, Jason's sure he'd be terrified. Bane's surrounded himself by hardened warriors, veterans of either Santa Prisca's notoriously harsh penal system, or the countries criminal underbelly. But Jason isn't exactly a normal man. He's been in worse situations with fewer allies without issue, and it takes a lot more than men with guns to intimidate him.

Wintergreen looks cautious, and Joey's lips are pressed together. He doesn't quite look  _ nervous, _ but he does look on edge.

Their contact is an older man with tattoos around his mouth. There's a ragged cut through his eyebrow, and he's shaved his head bald. It takes Jason an embarrassingly long time to realize that the abstract tattoos across the lower part of his face are intended to be a bird of some sort, and that he's likely the contact for the job.

"We were told four," he says, his eyes flicking over to the  _ clearly _ professional group of mercenaries before flipping back to Jason. "Four and a friend. Not three friends."

"They came with me," Jason says. "Bane won't have an issue."

"Quite bold to declare what Bane will or won't have an issue with," the man who's probably Bird says. "You travel together?"

"We travel together," French says. "He vouched for Bane, which is why we were willing to take the job."

Bird cocks his head, his eyes narrowing as he inspects Jason. They've taken his sunglasses but left his hat, and after a moment there's recognition in Bird's eyes and he nods.

"You might as well all come together, then," he says, turning away.

The fort maintains it's pretense of  _ historical ruin _ only for a few steps. Once they've entered the fort and turned the corner, old stone gives way to new brick and metal, the old fort having been torn out and replaced with a newer fortification. The outside couldn't hold up against modern weaponry, but this? This certainly could. Bane's made himself a  _ base. _

They wind through the fortress, and Jason reconsiders. Some of the newer construction doesn't look all that new. It's not  _ historical, _ but he figured it has to be at least a decade old. It can't have been Bane who built it, just Bane who claims it then.

"Wait," Bird says as he stops them in a small room outside a large set of doors. He enters, leaving them alone, and French lets out a low whistle.

"It's a nice place," he says. "A fortress."

"If the Santa Priscan government comes for him, he's going to need it," Alvarez says. "If they knew where he was..."

"Some probably do," Cho says. "But who wants to fight with Bane?"

"Who indeed," Wintergreen says quietly.

They don't have long to wait.

"He wants to see you," Bird says with a nod to Jason when he returns, and Jason feels a flicker of anxiety.

"Just me?"

"Are you friends of importance to Bane, or are they here only to accompany you?" Bird asks, his eyes sliding to Joey and Wintergreen.

The answer is no. Neither Joey nor Wintergreen has any real importance to Bane. They're nothing to him, but that doesn't mean Jason wants them sitting in a glorified hallway while he deals with the most dangerous man on the island by himself.

"Let the boy go with him," Wintergreen says, drawing Bird's attention. "Some moral support while meeting Bane is always helpful."

"He needs no moral support," Bird says. "He has already argued with Bane's men and set himself firmly against the usual rules. So he goes alone."

Jason is rapidly reconsidering the many,  _ many _ decisions he made that brought him to that point, but it's too late to back out. He can't just say that he changed his mind and expect to be escorted out. All he can do is straightened up, swallow his nerves, and nod. He doesn't look back, unwilling to glance to anyone for support. He won't have it inside, and he's going to have to do without it.

The room Bird takes him into is a war room. There's no other term for it, with a long table running down the center, a massive map of the island taking up the majority of it. There's no figures or markers, but Jason knows that it's purpose is largely to make explaining things easier between Bane and his men. Easier to point and show a path with a finger than to attempt to explain in a part of the country with no clear roads.

Bane stands at the end of the room, his back to them. He stares at nothing but stone, but when Bird stops them maybe ten feet from him, he responds without looking.

"Thank you Bird," he says. "Please tell our guests that it won't be too long."

Bird nods, even though Bane's back is to him, and goes to leave.

Bane is big. It was easy for him to forget a thousand miles away from him, but with just the two of them alone in a room, surrounded by a fortress full of Bane's men, without any sort of gear? It's easy to remember. It's easy to remember how large he is. Bane has, by Jason's estimate, nine inches and maybe a hundred and fifty pounds on him, and there's no question that this Bane, freed of venom and titan, could snap him like a twig.

"I was surprised when they said they would bring a friend," Bane says. "I did not expect it to be you."

It's been less than ten days since he last saw Bane, but it feels like a lifetime ago. Too much has happened for it to feel as recent as it is, and when Bane turns he feels a surge of anxiety. His eyes are not kind. He does not look like the apologetic man who offered his life to the Bat who had tormented his dreams to make up for his crimes. He's hard, a warlord, and Jason immediately realizes he's made a mistake as Bane steps forward, closing the distance.

Too late to run. Bane's faster than he is, and the odds are far too stacked in his favor. If things go poorly, his only choice is to bide his time and wait for  _ his _ advantages to come into play. Bane cannot hold him hostage. He can't ransom him. So Jason holds his ground, fighting to ignore the flicker of anxiety as Bane's eyes slide over to the door he came in through.

"The people outside?"

"Two friends of mine," he says, "and the team of mercenaries who offered to take the job."

"I am curious to know how you came to be so friendly with such a hardened bunch," Bane says. "It does not suit you."

Jason guesses that it probably doesn't. He was a different man then.

"I helped train them," he says. "I vouched that the job was legitimate to them. They want good work, as legitimate as it can be, not to be used as trained killers."

"And they'll have good work," Bane says. "Keeping a good man alive as his bodyguards is both legitimate, and a worthy cause. He will help stall the corruption that still permeates Santa Prisca's political system."

Jason somehow doubts that French and the others will be alright taking the job if Bane decides to abduct Jason at the same time. As glib as they were about that possibility, he feels fairly confident they'd help.

He's not sure he should be putting much stalk in him feeling  _ confident _ about people's natures, because that confidence put him in the situation he's in right there.

"And the other two?"

"Only here for me," Jason says. The less time Bane spends thinking about Joey and Wintergreen, the better.

Bane lifts a hand, setting it on Jason's shoulder. The touch is light, but that just makes it that much more unnerving, and the smile that Bane gives him makes his skin crawl.

"You were foolish to come here, little bird. People know who you are. Even Bird does not know who you are to  _ me, _ but he still knows that you are the son of the Bat, the one who wore the mantle after your father. I could take you, if I want. Ransom you back to your fathers, both of which are rich enough to help fund my war against corruption here."

"Then you'd have both of them knocking your door down," Jason points out. He fights to keep his voice steady, but it's difficult with Bane so close.

"Neither of them coming for you would stop me from snapping your neck," Bane says, and his fingers move with an agonizing slowness to rest on the back of Jason's neck as he says it.

Jason swallows at the lump in his throat. Before he was nervous. Now he's afraid, cursing himself for his stupidity. He was always too headstrong for his own good, and his fixation on the entire stupid idea of going  _ back _ to Bane seems downright suicidal in retrospect.

He'd meant it as a good thing. To remind himself that not everyone was bad. That people could change.

"Good," Bane says. "You are still afraid, and not completely stupid."

Then he laughs a single barking laugh and pulls his hand away. Jason feels like the air was just sucked out of him, and he sags, unable to maintain the perfect stillness he'd maintained.

"I am not going to kill you," Bane says, throwing his arm around Jason's shoulder. This time he doesn't use the practiced gentleness he's come to expect, letting the weight of his massive arm make Jason wobble. "Nor will I kidnap you. It would do my honor a disservice to have apologized to you before, only to spit in the face of your trust. You are a friend to me and mine, and will always be welcome here if you need it."

Jason is ready to lie down right then and there because the crash from his anxiety spiking is already killing him. Leave it to Bane to rile him up just to remind him of the danger.

"Although it was still stupid to have come without having already extracted that oath from me," Bane says with a shake of his head. "So tell me, little bird, what has compelled you to come all the way to Santa Prisca?"

"...Vacation," Jason says, his mouth dry, and Bane tips his head back and laughs again.

"Truly?" He says. "Of the whole world, you come to  _ Santa Prisca?  _ We certainly have our views, but I cannot imagine that either of your fathers approved of such a thing."

"I..." Jason says, digging deep to find his courage wherever it went to hide when Bane touched his neck. "I wanted to bring you a gift. Because it... meant a lot. That you apologized."

Bane's eyebrows raise, and he steps away, turning to face Jason properly as he looks him over.

"A gift."

"A gift," Jason says, pulling the small bag off the small of his back. His hands feel like lead as he withdraws the bear, holding it out to show Bane. It's old and tattered, one ear completely missing, but there's no question that Bane recognizes it, his expression softening immediately. He reaches out, taking the bear in one massive hand, and tucks it into the crook of his arm.

"Come," he says, turning away.

"I can't," Jason says. "If I leave them behind, Bruce is going to hop on a plane and come after me."

Bane pauses, looking him over, and then leaves him there, heading back to the door. He leans out, beckoning bird, and exchanges words in the same dialect Jason heard earlier. It's still unintelligible to him, but it's made clear enough what's happening when his phone is passed to Bane.

"You shall call him," Bane says, holding the phone out to Jason. "Tell him he has my word you will not be harmed."

Bruce is going to ground him for  _ life. _

He calls him anyway.

"Jason?" Bruce says immediately, his voice soft. "Is everything alright?"

"We're fine," Jason says, confident that Bruce is already rushing to check their tracker locations, assuming he wasn't already watching them. "Bane just wanted to talk to you."

Bruce makes a  _ noise, _ but Jason doesn't catch what he says as he holds the phone up. Bane takes it, and the tiny phone looks absolutely comical in his massive hands as he holds it up to his ear.

"Batman," he says, silent for a moment. "Yes." Another pause. "No. I understand."

Jason desperately hopes someone on the other end is recording the conversation.

"It will only be for a little while," he says. "Yes, I have something to show him."

There's another pause, and then Bane hands the phone back, and Jason tucks it against his ear.

"We are going to talk when you get back," Bruce says. His voice sounds strained, like he's been talking too much, which he probably has been. "You're fine to go with him. I love you."

"Love you too," Jason says, saying his goodbyes before hanging up the phone.

Bane lets him keep it, which Jason feels is unusual, and simply gestures for him to follow.

The place Bane takes him isn't within the fort. He takes him out back to a garage, climbing into a truck and gesturing for Jason to grab the passenger seat. It's normal enough, save for who's driving him, and Jason feels a pang of guilt for Joey and Wintergreen, who are probably still standing in the waiting room, expecting to speak to Bane soon.

They're just going to have to wait.


	18. Chapter 18

Bane doesn't take him to another fort. He doesn't take him to a base, or a cave system, or anything even mildly nefarious. He takes him down a road that isn't even paved, up into the mountains, to a small village.

The entire experience is surreal. Bane is practically a warlord, feared by many on the island, but when he parks the truck and gets out in what amounts to the center of town, he is greeted only with smiles.

"Come," Bane says, the bear still tucked in the crook of his arm.

Jason follows. He feels like he's walking into something strange and intimate, something he isn't meant to see. This is  _ personal, _ and Bane is simply letting him follow him down the dirt path into a part of his life that he's kept to himself.

This is Bane's  _ home. _ He knows from the way the people they pass look at him. He is beloved here, a friend, and Jason is a strange outsider they don't recognize. The village itself isn't very big—maybe fifty houses across the side of the mountain, although some are quite small—but the one they go to is near the very end, turned to look down over Santa Prisca through a gap in the foliage.

"Papa!" A little girl yells, and Jason can barely react before she darts from inside the fence, jumping into the air. Bane catches her easily, holding her against him, and turns to glance back to Jason, as if checking for a reaction.

Jason doesn't know how to react. The girl's young—a older than Jackson, but still a  _ child _ —and when she begins to ramble in that same dialect at Bane, Jason doesn't have a hope in the world of keeping up. He catches only a few words, similar enough to what the are in Spanish, but the majority of it is simply gone.

"Paloma!" A woman yells from the door, her face a scowl. Jason doesn't understand what she says next, but it's clear enough that it's an admonishment for ambushing her  _ father _ in the doorway.

Her father. Because Bane is obviously her dad, and the idea of it makes his head spin.

"Come," Bane says again, still carrying the little girl as he heads inside.

"Ah!" The woman yelps when she spots Jason, turning to Bane. There's more words, too fast for Jason to catch, but it's clear enough that this too is an admonishment, and Bane's face pinches in apology as he speaks to her.

_ "I apologize,"  _ she says in Spanish when she turns to him.  _ "He says you only speak Spanish?" _

Jason's school-years Spanish is not going to hold up. He understands enough to get a general idea, but speaking it feels impossibly daunting.

_ "Some,"  _ he says carefully.  _ "Not... very good." _

_ "Paloma,"  _ Bane says as he sets his daughter down.  _ "I brought you a gift." _

Her eyes light up at the mention of a gift, and then her face falls when she sees the bear, still in the crook of her father's arm.

_ "It's old,"  _ she protests, and Jason's happy that at least he took the time to clean it up so that it's not old _ and _ dirty.

_ "This was your fathers,"  _ he says.  _ "When I was even younger than you are. His name is Osito, and this young man has brought him back." _

For all her protests, she takes the bear anyway, hugging it to her chest as she stares up at Jason.

_ "Go play,"  _ her mother says.  _ "I need to speak to your father." _

She does, but not before tugging on Bane's arm. He stoops down onto one knee so that she can plant a kiss on his cheek, and only once that's done does she dart back outside, bear in her arms.

_ "You did not tell me we would have guests," _ she admonishes Bane, and Jason gets the impression that it's largely for his benefit.

_ "I did not know,"  _ he says.  _ "He was an unexpected guest." _

_ "All of your guests are unexpected,"  _ she says with a sigh and a shake of her head, turning to Jason.  _ "I apologize for my lack of hospitality. Would you like a drink?" _

Jason can practically hear Alfred whispering advice in his ear, so he nods, swallowing down his confusion.

_ "Yes please,"  _ is all he can manage, and she bustles off to fetch him some. When she returns, it's with a glass of juice that tastes like mango, and Bane gestures for him to sit as he sits himself.

Even in his own house, there's only one chair that fits Bane, and Jason sits opposite of it, feeling horrifically out of place.

"My life," Bane says in English. "My family."

"They seem... very nice," Jason says, relieved that he's not being forced to dip into his limited Spanish vocabulary. He can't remember what the hell the word for  _ wife _ is, and doesn't want to guess.

_ "Which one is this?"  _ His wife asks, raising her eyebrows as she glances between Jason and Bane.

_ "The boy I hurt,"  _ Bane says, answering the question Jason hasn't quite worked up the nerve to ask.  _ "He came to return Osito to me." _

_ "I begged him not to go,"  _ Bane's wife says.  _ "But he would not listen. He is hard headed." _

She reaches up, rapping her knuckles against Bane's skull as he laughs.

_ "He would not have known peace if he did not go,"  _ she says,  _ "so I suppose I must be thankful that things went as well as they did." _

"Oh," Jason says. "I'm - my name is Jason." He offers his hand, and apparently her English extends far enough to understand what he just said, because she takes his hand, giving it a shake (even if the gesture seems awkward to her) and introduces herself.

_ "Maria Eulogia Gómez Reyna,"  _ she says, and Jason nods along. She has to be... what, Bane's wife? She hasn't  _ said _ it, but it makes sense. He supposes it's technically possible that it's his sister, but considering the dynamic at play, he's putting all his money on wife.

_ "Nice to meet you,"  _ he says, happy he at least remembers that much Spanish.

"You know the rules of Santa Prisca?" Bane asks, leaning forward in his chair. "The rules of life sentences."

Maria swats Bane's arm like he's no more than an unruly child.

_ "You bring a guest to our house to tell him of our home's great shame?"  _ She says.  _ "Better to let him leave the island thinking we're something more than monsters, to tolerate such a thing." _

Bane loops an arm around her waist, pulling her close, and Jason's once again awash with the sensation that he's seeing something he shouldn't be. Something personal and private.

_ "It will not be forever," _ he says.  _ "He has brought men of his own who will guard Julio, and then the law will be struck down. They cannot defend it. It stands only because those in charge are too corrupt to take issue with it." _

Jason averts his eyes, but it doesn't last long.

"You know the rule?" Bane asks, and Jason clears his throat and nods. It isn't hard to guess what rule he's talking about, given what he knows of Bane.

"When I returned here, Maria was the one who found me at my lowest. She brought me into her home, and she and her husband sheltered me as I regained my strength. Her husband was a dissident, openly protesting the government, and he was shot in one such protest, and then charged with a number of horrific crimes."

_ "Crimes which he did not participate in,"  _ Maria spits, and Jason realizes that in the same way he understands Spanish but barely speaks it, Maria seems to understand English but isn't willing to speak it either.

"Maria was pregnant," Bane says. "The law is clear. If she bore a male child, the child would be taken to Peña Dura to serve the sentence of his father. When they came for her, I snapped their necks and spirited her away to safety."

In terms of  _ how I met your mother _ stories, Bane's has to be the most insane he's heard.

"Even when Paloma was born, her refusal to submit herself to the law made her a criminal," Bane says. "So she lives here, safe from the government."

"Which is why you want to overturn the law," Jason says. "So she can be free."

Bane tips his head back and laughs.

"No," he says as Jason's face burns with embarrassment. "She married me, and chose a life with me. She will always be a criminal in the eyes of the law. The only way that would change is if I took Santa Prisca for myself, and too many people would die for such a thing to be worth it. No, little bird, we are content with what we have. I push for the law to be destroyed because it is a cruel law that harms the innocent. Children who have done nothing, who must now serve their father's punishment. Even now, with Peña Dura torn down, many still rot in other prisons."

_ "You tease him,"  _ Maria says with a shake of his head.  _ "Anyone would assume that you were doing it for me." _

_ "He can handle it,"  _ Bane says with another laugh. This is softer, and the affection for his wife is clear.  _ "He has had worse than a bit of teasing." _

Jason's of the opinion that the whole thing has gone on  _ more _ than long enough.

"Not to be rude," he says carefully, "but I feel like you didn't bring me here just to do introductions."

Jason's putting his money on Bane wanting one of two things. Either he wants the Justice League's help pressuring the Santa Prisca government into not being so fucking  _ shamelessly corrupt, _ or he wants Bruce's help applying similar pressure with his massive stacks of cash. Neither is something Jason can help with, and neither makes him feel particularly charitable towards Bane. He feels, the more he thinks about it, a little bit used.

"Of course," Bane says. "Maria is pregnant. If it is a boy, I would ask your blessing to name him after you."

Jason's one hundred percent confident he'd feel less blindsided if Bane had just sucker punched him in the head.

"Hng?!" He says, unable to form an actual word past his surprise.

_ "Jasón is a good name,"  _ Maria says.  _ "Unusual, but not too strange." _

Jason's brain hasn't quite finished rebooting when Paloma sticks her head in the door, calling to her mother before darting across the room to climb into her mother's lap, sneaking a peak at Jason.

"I -" Jason starts, faltering as he tries to remember what he was thinking. "I... yes. If you'd like that."

_ "It is a different sort of name now that you have given your blessing. Before it was an apology. Now it is a celebration," _ Maria says, combing out her daughters hair with her fingertips. 

There's a beep from elsewhere in the house, and Maria stands, scooping her daughter into her arms before depositing her on Bane's lap as she gets to her feet.

_ "Ah!"  _ She says.  _ "Dinner!" _

"You will stay?" Bane asks, and Jason feels a pang of guilt.

"I can't," he says. "My friends are-"

"Enjoying a tour of some historic sights around Santa Prisca," Bane says. "Did you think I simply left them in a waiting room for hours?"

Jason did in fact think that, and he's sure it shows on his face.

"You will stay," he says. "Enjoy my wife's cooking. Then you'll be returned to the city to meet with your friends."

It's right on that borderline of  _ you have no choice _ and  _ you can leave whenever you want _ which Bane loves to run all over, but Jason doesn't see a point in arguing it, so he simply nods his understanding.

Of all the strange experiences in his life, sitting down for dinner with Bane, his wife, and his daughter sits near the top. His wife's the consummate host, checking in with him frequently despite the language barrier as she buries him in her home cooking. 

"What  _ is _ this?" Jason asks as he works his way through some kind of meat stew.

_ "Sancocho,"  _ she says.  _ "My grandmother's recipe." _

"This is great," he says as he works his way through it, sampling all the foods she's pushing at him. "What is this even made with?"

_ "I will write you the recipe,"  _ she says.  _ "So you can make it for yourself." _

For all his plans, Jason's still there an hour after dinner finishes, being force fed a variety of snacks while Maria chats to him about his experience so far in Santa Prisca, telling him about all the things he should be doing and sights he should be seeing. Paloma's warming up to him, and makes a point of showing him all the books her father has her reading as Jason nods along.

Jason's phone rings, and he cringes as Bane lets out another laugh—he seems to do that a lot, although almost exclusively when around his family—as Jason picks it up.

"Please tell me you're not still with Bane," Slade says.

"Then I won't tell you," Jason says, pinching the phone between his head and his shoulder.

"I had to kick Bruce off the computer to keep him from obsessing, you know," Slade says. "It's... seven PM. You have been there since close to one. It's been six hours."

Jason's pretty sure Slade's a bit off (at least some of that time was spent at the fort, and then getting up to the village), but the idea is clear enough.

"Don't you need to eat dinner?" Slade protests.

"It's alright," Jason says. "I've been fed."

Slade makes a noise of distress.

"...I'm not going to tell you father that," he says.

"I'll tell you all about it when I get home," Jason says. "Things are just fine."

_ "Your new friend has a scary papa as well,"  _ Bane says to his daughter, and Jason chokes.

"Jason?" Slade says. "Do I need to come down there?"

"No," Jason says. "I'm fine. I think we were just wrapping up."

"And then you will  _ not _ be visiting any warlords for the rest of this trip, correct?"

There's only one on the island, so...

"Bane has better things to do then host me," Jason says.

_ "Debatable,"  _ Maria says under her breath, and Slade makes another noise that tells Jason he overheard.

"I need to go," Jason says. "We were just about to say goodbye, and then yes, no more running around doing this sort of thing."

"You had better not," Slade mutters, but does finally say his goodbyes, hanging up the phone.

"Sorry," Jason says, trying not to feel  _ too _ embarrassed by the whole thing.

"It is nothing to worry about," Bane says as he stands. "Perhaps I should be returning you to your friends before they worry too much."

Oh right. And the militia.

"The mercenaries-"

"I do not talk business here," Bane says with a nod, "but they have already been handled. My second in command saw to the matter."

_ "Thank you for coming,"  _ Maria says as they gather at the door.  _ "It was good to meet you after the stories my husband has told." _

Paloma doesn't say goodbye, hiding herself behind her mother in a burst of shyness, but does end up waving to him as they get ready to go. Maria rises up onto her toes to kiss her husband goodbye, and Jason averts his eyes, unable to overcome the  _ intense _ weirdness of the entire encounter.

_ "You're welcome any time,"  _ Maria says.

"Thank you for all your hospitality," Jason says with a small nod, clearing his throat and giving them a small nod before they finally leave.

"I trust I have your confidentiality," Bane says as he climbs back into the truth.

"Bit late to ask for that," Jason says with a snort. "But yes. I'm not going to spread it around."

"Good," Bane says, turning to hand Jason a few folded sheets of paper.

"My wife's sancocho recipe," he says, "and a way to contact me if you need it. Do not be afraid to keep in touch."

Jason gives a small nod, sinking back into his seat as they start back down the mountain.


	19. Chapter 19

Joey is absolutely _ beside _ himself when Jason is dropped off an hour later by one of Bane's men. He's sitting beside the fountain with Wintergreen, but when Jason arrives Joey throws his arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

"You're daft," Wintergreen says, almost to himself. "Crazier than your father, and that's saying something."

"It was fine," Jason protests as Joey lets go, starting to sign frantically.

_ You went missing for hours with a crime lord! _ Joey gestures. _ Slade's called three times and I think we're maybe an hour from Clark showing up. _

"I already called him when I reached town," Jason says. "He knows I'm back with you."

"Mmm," Wintergreen says as they start back towards where they were dropped off by the taxi. "I'm going to call him anyway so he can be sure you weren't speaking under duress."

"I'm more worried about if you ate," Jason says. "Did you guys eat?"

_ We were taken to a very nice place filled with locals. They even paid for our food, even if they wouldn't explain where the hell you'd gone, _ Joey signs, shooting Jason a dirty look.

"Sorry," Jason says with a wince as Wintergreen hails a taxi. "But it's over now, right?"

"Your boys have already left," Wintergreen says. "They said they'd keep in touch, but they had work to do. Quite professional of them, I have to say."

He shoots Jason a dirty look that matches Joey's own, and Jason winces again, confident he's not going to hear the end of this for weeks.

Jason waits until they're back to the resort and safely in their rooms to fill them in. He isn't _planning_ on telling them the whole thing--he _was_ just sworn to secrecy--but it slips out anyway as they work their way through the desserts they find waiting. It's just too crazy a story to _not_ tell them.

_ Bane has a whole family? _Joey signs, looking mystified.

"It's not so surprising," Wintergreen says. "Your father was the same way, after all. Moonlighting as Deathstroke one day, and returning to a seemingly normal domestic life the next."

"He was like a different person when he was with them. He was so... so _ careful." _

"Love changes people," Wintergreen says. "I can only imagine how different Slade's life would have been if he had ended up with your father rather than Adeline."

_ Not really possible, _ Joey signs. _ I don't think he'd have accepted it. _

"Truthfully, I agree," Wintergreen says. "Slade was not in a position where he was willing to accept that sort of affection. He has changed a great deal from the way he was in those days."

_ But Bane? _ Joey asks. _ Pop and Bane didn't really have a lot in common. _

"You don't think so?" Wintergreen says. "Both were extremely ruthless men, famed for their abilities in combat... but both were also extremely intelligent and cunning. Considering what Jason has just shared with us, it would seem they both met similar fates as well: they chose love and companionship over their previous lifestyles, and aimed to contribute to bettering the world in the name of their children."

It feels like such an obvious parallel, and yet it still catches Jason off guard. Judging by Joey's reaction, he's caught off guard too, his lips twisting together into something between a frown and an actual scowl at the comparison.

"Having said that, I think it's time for me to retire for the night," Wintergreen says. "I believe you both have scuba diving to do in the morning, and should likely get some rest as well."

Wintergreen retires, but Joey sticks around a bit longer, his face pinched in an expression that Jason can't quite figure out.

_ I was worried, _ Joey signs, and Jason no longer has to wonder.

"I'm fine," Jason says. "Really. I was a bit... worried... when he first split us up, but it was fine after that. Did you at least get to see the sights?"

_ Hard to focus when fielding calls from Bruce about if you were dead or not, _Joey signs with a scowl. 

Ouch. He deserves that, but he's also not sure how to make it better. This feels like new, uncharted territory for him. Someone being _ angry _ with him (and Joey's definitely angry) isn't something he's used to dealing with.

"I'm sorry," Jason says, trying to sound as genuine as humanly possible. "Really. I knew it would worry you guys, but not... how much. And once I'd started there was no going back, so I had to just... carry on forward."

Jason tries to plant himself firmly in Bruce's shoes, and then decides Bruce probably isn't the one to model himself after in this case. Tim. Tim seems like a good choice. What would _ Tim _ do?

"What can I do to make this up to you?"

Joey sighs, some of the anger obviously successfully mitigated by Jason's question.

_ It's fine, _ he signs. _ I'll get over it with some time. Just promise me you won't do anything stupid for the rest of the trip. _

"Just the rest of the trip?" Jason asks, trying not to sound _ too _ surprised. It seems like an easy yes. Like Joey should be asking for... a month or two, at the very least.

_ I'm just being realistic about your capabilities when it comes to staying out of trouble. _

"Hey!" Jason protests with a scowl. "I can stay out of trouble."

Joey gives him a skeptical look that needs no signs to explain itself.

"I can," Jason insists. "Just watch, I'll be _ completely _ safe the whole rest of the trip."

It's not until later that night after Joey's gone to bed that it occurs to Jason that getting him to swear to play it safe might have been the plan all along.


	20. Chapter 20

It's Sunday, and Jason's immediately thrown off by the lack of therapy. He almost never misses an appointment, but it  _ does _ happen, and he's already let Hudson know not to expect him.

Even so, he feels ever so slightly off as he goes through his morning routine. He makes a point of checking in with Bruce (who grunts at him a lot), making sure he knows what he's doing and where they're going, and then heads down to the lobby.

Wintergreen's there, and he somehow looks even  _ more _ like a tourist then he did the day before. He's wearing swim trunks, he's got a hawaiin shirt on, and despite it being eight in the morning, he's already got a drink in one hand, complete with an umbrella.

"Joey?" Jason asks.

"Down in a moment," he says. "You'll be staying out of trouble?"

"We're just going diving," Jason says. "I've done it before, and there's more or less no risk."

Joey is down in just a few minutes. He's in shorts, which puts Jason as the odd one out, but it's not as if it matters much when their guide shows up to pick them up. He's a short man, obviously a local, and when he talks he gestures with his hands so vigorously that for a moment Jason things he might actually be signing in some other sign language he doesn't know.

Of course he's not—he's just very excitable—and wastes absolutely no time in running over the rules, the basics, and the hand signs with them. Both of them have dived before, which makes the whole process go a lot faster, and their guide (who Jason learns is named Miguel), doesn't seem at all put off by Joey's muteness when Jason explains it.

"We will change and go down to the beach," Miguel explains. "This side of the island has the best diving, but few people are willing to swim."

Joey's raised eyebrows ask the question he can't, and Miguel gives him a devilish grins.

"Sharks!" He says. "Santa Prisca has the highest rate of shark attacks of any island in the Carribean, but almost all of them take place within a few kilometer stretch... Which you will be diving in."

Jason's promise to stay out of trouble seems like it's being tested significantly sooner than he planned, and Miguel lets out a barking laugh in response to their reaction.

"Never fear," he says. "The attacks are from uninformed tourists going diving without a local guide to warn them away from danger. You, on the other hand, have an excellent guide who is familiar with all the perils and wonders that Santa Prisca has to offer."

He winks, and they help him load the gear into a van before heading off towards a beach.

It's not private—the beach is state land—but it  _ is _ absolutely empty, without another soul in sight. Prominent signs warn people of shark attacks, and Miguel directs them to a bathroom to pull on the majority of their scuba gear. Jason doesn't need to go, peeling off his shirt and pants to reveal the wetsuit underneath.

"Already prepared!" Miguel says. "Good, it will make things easier."

The tour company provides the rest of the gear, and Miguel seems increasingly amused as they grab gloves, fins, belts, and all the other gear they need.

"This is the first time in a while I've had people who know what they are doing," Miguel says with a shake of his head. "Usually with tourists, I must walk them through each thing, step by step."

"I've dived before," Jason says. "Mostly on family trips."

"Then I will show you the more interesting sights," he says. "Always much more enjoyable than swimming by the shore."

Miguel looks Jason over, and then leans in as if they might be overheard, despite the fact that they're completely alone on the beach.

"You are the Batman, are you not?" Miguel says with a raised eyebrow. Jason isn't exactly surprised to find he knows who he is, considering his name was on the reservation, but Miguel's the first person since they arrived in Santa Prisca to acknowledge it.

"Yes," he says. "That's me."

"Then I will show you even more interesting sights," Miguel says with a grin.

When Joey returns, Miguel runs over the safety information one last time, but adds one more particularly alarming bit of advice.

"You must not slap the surface," he says.

"What?" Jason says. "Why?"

Every dive he's ever been on has involved taking a boat out into the water and stepping in from there, and slapping the surface has always been a pretty good way to get people's attention while up at surface level.

"The reason Santa Prisca has such a high rate of shark attacks is because if you slap the surface, the sharks believe that they are being fed. They will not bother you if you swim around with them as normal, but if you jump in, they will swarm."

Well, that's a piece of advice Jason wasn't prepared for.

Joey flashes an ok, and Miguel nods, grabbing his own gear.

"This way," he says. "We wade in. When we are chest deep, it will fall off, and we will go below the surface for safety."

Miguel isn't kidding when he talks about sharks. They've barely made it twenty feet when he signals, pointing out an outline in the distance. He takes them out towards the reef, gliding slowly through the area. He's a good guide, and clearly experienced with diving, because he avoids most of the usual pitfalls Jason's expecting to see in favor of showing them the highlights. He seems to be enjoying having people with him who can keep up, and after they've spent about an hour working their way along the reef, Miguel pulls out the dive slate.

_ Wreck? _ He writes, and Jason checks with Joey before they both flash an ok.

The wreck isn't too far off the reef, although it's farther down. The ship's  _ old, _ half submerged in the sand, and Jason doesn't know enough about old ships to begin to guess just how old it is, or why it's down there. It's obviously heavily degraded, the wooden deck having largely rotted out, but Joey gestures to canons protruding from the sea floor before Miguel tours them slowly through it. There's not much of it left, but that doesn't stop it from being interesting, and when Miguel gestures for them to head back, it feels a bit too early.

Or at least it feels too early when they make it back to the beach and Jason's stomach makes it's protests known.

"You are booked for the whole afternoon, if you'd like," Miguel says as he lets them sit in the surf, heading up the beach to fetch a basket. "But lunch. You will need your strength."

They have sandwiches and snacks from the resort as they sit on the beach, discussing the different things they saw. Joey complains he didn't see the ray that Jason insists was there, but he does know quite a bit about the ship they saw.

"So," Miguel says as they're wrapping up, finishing his own bag lunch. "You still have the afternoon. A few more hours at least."

"What's worth seeing in the area?" Jason asks. Then he second guesses himself, glancing back to Joey. "Anything you want to see?"

Joey grins at him.

_ I kind of like the sharks, _ he signs.  _ Is there a place we could dive with them? _

Jason glances back to Miguel, well aware he's not going to understand the ASL, but is caught off guard.

"Sharks, right?" Miguel asks, mimicking the sign in question, a fin cutting through the water.

"Yeah," Jason confirms. "Is there any place nearby?"

"You've mostly seen the smaller reef sharks," Miguel says. "If you want the larger ones, there is a place we can swim to from here where many sharks gather."

Miguel didn't say it was close, and Jason sees why when they start the swim. It's not exactly close, and they spend almost an hour diving along the coast before Miguel signals they're almost there.

_ No splashing, _ Miguel writes, earning himself an ok.  _ Do not go deeper! _

They shoot him a set of okays and then head farther up the cost.

There are, in a word, a lot of sharks. There's no beach here, just massive rocky cliffs, and the water itself isn't terribly deep with one exception: there's a large sinkhole not far from the coast, descending down out of sight. The sharks swirl above it, ones he recognizes primarily as tiger sharks with a few hammerheads mixed in.

There's something almost surreal about it, and Miguel swims right towards them. A few break off to investigate them, but Miguel simply pushes them off as they come close and they seem to get the picture.

Joey takes the lead, swimming right into the center above the sinkhole, treading water as the sharks swirl around him. Jason follows, keeping himself close to Joey, and just lets himself enjoy it.

For just a little while, there's just the three of them and what seems like a hundred sharks.

One of the sharks draws closer, and Jason grabs it's snout to push it away. It's not the first time he's done it, but the fact that the shark immediate turns back around, bumping into his side harmlessly sets up alarm bells.

He's pretty sure sharks aren't supposed to do that.

Miguel signals for them to pull back, but it's easier said than done. The sharks are circling around, pressing in close enough to touch. The sharks are too close to even swim away, even if they try.

But there's also no bites. All the mouths stay fully shut, which seems almost more unusual than the fact that they're currently trapped in a swirl of sharks.

It doesn't last even a full minute before the sharks all turn, almost as one, and pull away from them, leaving them in clear ocean.  _ That _ clues Jason in, and he spins in place, scanning for someone else in the water.

And yep, there they are, a human figure a ways off in the water.

Jason doesn't know if they can see him, but he pulls off his glove to more effectively flip them off anyway.

_ What's going on? _ Joey signs at him. Behind the mask, it's hard to tell how he's feeling.

_ Arthur, _ Jason signs back, pointing out towards the figure that's already starting to approach him.

Jason flips him off again and heads for the surface. Despite all of Miguel's warnings about not splashing, Jason's well past being worried when he reaches the surface, spitting out his regulator.

"Arthur, you  _ absolute asshole!"  _ Jason yells, which feels particularly ineffective considering Arthur surfaces already laughing.

"In my defense," Arthur says as Joey and Miguel surface on either side of them. "It was not intended to be alarming. They misinterpreted my instruction."

"They're  _ sharks,"  _ Jason says. "They're not exactly known for higher brain functions."

"This is... Aquaman?" Miguel ventures, looking Arthur over.

Miguel looks like he's calming down, and Joey looks already calm by the time he spits out his respirator, raising his hands up above the surface to sign. As easily as he can communicate underwater, communicating while swimming is something else entirely.

Or at least it's difficult right up until it  _ stops _ being difficult, and Joey abruptly stops treading water with a confused look on his face. He looks down, but there's nothing to see, and Jason looks down too, seeing nothing but water.

_ What am I standing on? _ Joey signs.

"Uh," Jason says, "water?"

"Compressed water," Arthur says with a wave of his hand. "I thought it would be easier."

_ It is,  _ Joey signs. Arthur doesn't know ASL, but he's met Joey at least once before, and he knows to look to Jason for a translation, which Jason provides.

"This is... unusual," Miguel admits.

"Bruce sent you?" Jason asks, wishing he didn't need his arms for swimming so he could cross them and look appropriately annoyed.

"He asked me to check in," Arthur admits. "But also intended that I keep my distance. Considering the scare I gave you, I thought that might have been... bad."

Jason can't  _ entirely _ blame Bruce for this one. Considering the high possibility he had a Bane-endorsed escort keeping an eye on him, having Arthur check in on him discreetly isn't exactly something he can object to.

"I'd have figured it out," Jason says. "I had my suspicions right around the time none of them tried to bite me even  _ slightly." _

"Again," Arthur says, "I apologiz-"

"You're going to tow us back," Jason says with a grunt. "Because I'm not flutter kicking all the way to the beach."

"Of course," Arthur says, shifting backwards.

Jason is  _ not _ goddamn prepared for a shark to shoot between them, diving back under the water as it passes.

"...You can't be serious."

Arthur grins at him.

"Dolphins are better," he says, "but they won't come near this place."

Jason just groans. The next time a shark comes by, Jason snags its dorsal fin and goes limp, letting the massive creature tow him along.

Jason's pretty sure he should be feeling annoyed that Arthur was spying on them, only he's having a hard time maintaining even a pretense of annoyance while being towed through the ocean by a shark.

Jason has to direct Arthur to the proper beach, the sharks heading right up to the dropoff to release them before turning back towards where they just came from.

"I should be going," Arthur says. "But it was good to know everything's alright here."

Jason and Joey give him quick waves, and then Arthur vanishes back under the water.

"Sorry about that," Jason says with a wince. As cool as the whole shark thing was, he can't help but feel a bit embarassed that someone he's just met knows his dad is spying on him.

"Truly, it is not an issue," Miguel says with a laugh. "If anything, I think I should be paying you for the experience... towed along by sharks, swimming beside the Aquaman is a story you can brag about."

"I'm fine with that... if you wait a week."

"Of course," Miguel says. "I normally wait much longer for privacy reasons, but two members of the Justice League..."

They strip down their gear, handing it over to Miguel as he loads it into the back of the van. Joey goes to change, and Jason simply wraps a towel around himself, riding back to the resort on a plastic covered seat rather than soaking his clothes.

Jason makes sure to give Miguel a large tip and a glowing review, and he sees them off looking genuinely happy about how things went.


	21. Chapter 21

Jason's intent on easing the misstep with Joey the day before, so he makes a point, once he's showered and dressed, of asking what  _ Joey _ wants to do. Joey looks mildly surprised, and then shrugs.

_ Find Wintergreen, make sure he hasn't cooked himself in the sun, and get dinner? _ He signs, and Jason figures it's as good a plan as any.

They find Wintergreen by the pool, reading a book and enjoying the last of the natural sunlight the island has to offer. He tips his sunglasses down as they approach, making a little  _ hmmm _ noise.

"Everything went well?"

_ Aquaman showed up, _ Joey signs.  _ So we got towed around by sharks, which was pretty neat. _

"A veritable array of new experiences," Wintergreen says, tucking his book under his arm. "Dinner?"

They have dinner at one of the resort's restaurants, eating a variety of Santa Priscan cuisine, including something that he's pretty sure is another kind of sancocho, although a great deal richer than the one he had before. When they're done, Wintergreen announces he's going to go to bed early in order to wake in time for, of all possible things, a  _ morning game of bocce ball. _

"You're kidding?" Jason asks.

"I was challenged," Wintergreen says. "It would be embarrassing to have to surrender without even getting a chance to play."

_ The Wintergreen I knew was more partial to football,  _ Joey signs.

"Well of course," Wintergreen says. "Can't exactly expect to play a good game of that at seven in the morning."

He leaves them behind, heading off before the sun's even fully down.

"So?" Jason says as they leave the restaurant. "Plans?"

_ Hit the bar? _ Joey says with a raised eyebrow.

It sounds as good an idea as any, so Jason lets Joey lead the way. He's not much of a drinker, but he's  _ absolutely _ not much of a bargoer. Every time he's gone, he's been in the company of friends, so he's hoping that Joey knows what he's doing.

He does.

He really,  _ really _ does.

It's obvious from the word go that Joey knows what he's doing, because he navigates the entire situation with ease. He checks if Jason has a preference (he doesn't), scribbles his order on a bar napkin, and then slides it over to the bartender, showing the bartender his scar to explain the silence.

_ So, _ Joey signs to him,  _ aside from the fiasco yesterday, it's been a pretty fun trip. How are you feeling? _

"Like if I swim any more my legs are going to detach," Jason says. His quads are starting to burn, and he suspects they probably went a little too hard, distracted by what they were seeing.

_ You've still got two more days, _ Joey signs.  _ Plenty of time for your legs to fall off. _

"Can we at least take it easy tomorrow?"

_ Sure, _ Joey signs.  _ I wanted to hit the pool. Tan a bit. Maybe go to the spa. _

The spa. The idea of  _ the spa _ makes Jason shiver, as childish as it is. That's a no. A great big no. A  _ never. _

"Maybe I'll see if they have some surfing gear I can borrow," Jason says. He doubts it. They're on the wrong side of the island for it, the waves not particularly good for surfing.

_ Doubtful, _ Joey signs.  _ Looks bad for surfing. But there's lots to do. _

His eyes fix on something behind Jason, and Jason glances over his shoulder to find a pair of attractive young women sliding up to the bar. They're around his age, dressed in a  _ very _ flattering manner, and he has to quickly look away to hide his embarrassment. Right. That was probably what Joey'd planned for when he said  _ let's hit the bar. _

"Oh!" The blonde woman says in an accent that Jason pins down as being Dutch. "Americans?"

It takes Jason a hot second to realize she's talking to him, and he turns, trying not to be rude.

"Us?" He says. "Yeah, American."

The women exchange a glance as they get their drinks, and the brunette speaks up.

"Have you been here long?" She says, her accent thick. "We just arrived."

"Our second day," Jason says with a glance to Joey, who looks amused.

"Oh!" She says excitedly. "Then you have seen your way around. Maybe you could tell us about what you've seen?"

Jason is one hundred and ten percent sure he isn't going to tell them anything about what  _ he's _ seen, but he supposes scuba diving isn't such a bad topic.

_ Why not? _ Joey signs, gesturing towards a booth.

"Oh!" The blonde says. "Is your friend....?"

"Mute," Jason says, trying not to sound defensive, but Joey's already producing his phone, the screen lighting up.

"More or less mute," Joey corrects. "Hopefully this won't be an issue?"

"No no!" The brunette says. "My name is Evi."

"Sophie," the blonde introduces herself, grinning at Jason as she rests her chin on her palm.

"Jason," he says, glancing to Joey. He's sure as hell not giving a last name, especially considering neither woman seems to recognize him... or at least he doesn't think they do. It's hard to tell, and both of them keep glancing at him.

"Joseph," Joey says, leaving his phone on the center of the table. "You're from the Netherlands?"

There's a round of giggles that tells Jason that A) both women have already been drinking for a bit, and B) he is absolutely not prepared for the rest of the night.

"I'm impressed you recognized the accent," Sophie says. "You must be well travelled."

"We've been all over," Joey says. "Every place I've visited in Europe has been lovely."

"You're brothers?" Evi asks Jason.

"No," Jason says. "Just... friends." He's doubly happy he didn't mention his last name right then. He doesn't want to have to explain  _ this is my father from another dimension's son, but no, we're not brothers. _

It's a lot for  _ him _ at times, and he can't imagine how it would be for everyone else.

They ask about scuba diving (a great experience, and Joey recommends Miguel wholeheartedly, seeming genuinely pleased) the city nearby (plenty of tourist traps, but also plenty of nice sights) and the island itself. Neither woman seems to know much of anything about Santa Prisca, which Jason tries not to take issue with, but both ask a seemingly endless barrage of questions... mostly about the two of them.

Jason feels alarmingly out of his depth, only he can't just go quiet and let Joey handle it, because every time he does, one of the women looks right at him and addresses him directly.

"Where are you from in America?" Sophie asks, and Jason debates the pros and cons of just saying the state compared to just saying the city before going for something neutral.

"Gotham," he says. "Just across from Metropolis." If they don't know Gotham, he's sure they'll know Metropolis.

"Ah!" Sophie says. "Gotham is the place with the..." She mimes flapping her hands, which Jason feels is more birdlike then batlike, but he gets the point.

"Yes," Jason confirms, because he doesn't feel like playing dumb.

"I saw an amazon once," Evi confides. "She was truly beautiful. They are starting to explore Europe more, to see the world."

This sort of conversation is a lot easier for him, but he keeps second guessing whether they  _ know  _ and are fishing for confirmation, or if they genuinely have no idea.

"They're an amazing people," Jason confirms.

"Every woman sees amazons and wants to be one, and every man sees amazons and wants to be with one," Joey says with a grin. "Sometimes vice versa."

Joey gets two drunk giggles in response, and Jason finishes off his drink, snagging Joey's glass.

"Want some more?"

Joey nods, and Jason ducks back to the bar to get them drinks. He tries not to spend  _ too _ long there, but at the same time he's not exactly eager to get back to the table. His stomach keeps doing flips, because he simply can't see a positive outcome. If one of them goes off to their room with Joey, that means the other's going to be left with him as a consolation prize. If  _ both _ of them go off to their room with Joey...

...Well, he doesn't know how he'd handle that, but at least he could go back to his own room if it happened.

He returns with drinks to Joey telling their companions about his work (between jobs, used to be in management), learning that Sophie is a teacher, and Evi is an accountant. The conversation turns to plans for the next day as Jason works his way through his second drink.

"We were going to go to the spa," Sophie says. "I hear they do a great hot rock massage."

"I was thinking the same thing," Joey says, his eyes sliding over to Jason. "Care to join us?"

No. Nope. Absolutely not. Jason would saw off his own feet before he went for  _ a massage, _ and he quickly shakes his head.

"I'm good," he says. "I was thinking about checking out the pool. I haven't got to spend any time there."

"Maybe we'll do the spa the day after next," Evi says. "We haven't spent much time at the pool either."

The conversation seems to go on forever. Jason's on his fourth drink (and probably a bit more drunk then he intended to be) when Evi decides to call it a night.

"I should get back to my room," she says. "They gave us great rooms - the ocean view is absolutely spectacular."

Jason's thinking of his own room when she looks right at him, a grin on her face.

"Maybe you'd like to come see?"

"Oh," he says with a shrug. "I figure we probably have the same sort of room if you're up on the third floor. It's a really nice view." He doesn't really see the point. After swimming with the sharks and going through a reef, a view of the beach doesn't seem half as exciting to him.

"Maybe we could compare views?" Sophie asks, and Jason considers for a moment before shrugging. He's pretty sure they're going to be dealing with them the whole of tomorrow, and he doesn't see the harm in that.

"Sure," he says. "We're over on the east side, so you can see the boats go out around ten. If we're going to spend tomorrow at the pool, I can show you then."

Joey makes a small noise, but when Jason glances over he's busy with his drink, and Jason ignores it.

"Sure," Evi says. "That sounds great - you can show both of us."

Jason pays—really, he just puts it on the room, so  _ Bruce _ pays—and they head for the door. Sophie glances out the door, scanning the area, and folds her arms around her shoulders.

"Wow, it's dark out there," she says. "Maybe you could walk us home? I wouldn't want to run into any wildlife."

It's an open invitation, but she's looking at Jason and Joey's phone is already tucked into his pocket, so Jason takes it upon himself to answer.

"You don't have to worry," he says. "They've got good fencing around the area, so no wildlife roaming around." He knows, because he checked it himself back when he first got a chance. He might not be  _ Bruce _ levels of paranoid, but he's not going to take that kind of risk either.

"Oh," Sophie says, her face falling. "Well, we'll see you tomorrow."

Joey plants a hand on Jason's shoulder and starts to steer him back towards their rooms, and Jason is of the opinion things went pretty well right up until the point where Joey shakes his head.

"Someone alert the lanterns," he says. "I've found the densest material in the known universe right here on earth."

"What?" Jason says. He wants to blame the alcohol, but he's pretty sure he'd be just as confused if he  _ wasn't _ buzzed.

"Jason," Joey says, his body conveying seriousness in a way his artificial voice can't. "They were hitting on you."

"What?" Jason asks. He isn't disbelieving, just  _ confused. _ "Joey, they were hitting on  _ you _ ."

Joey drags his hand down his face.

"Jason, they asked you to go up to your room."

Jason opens his mouth to protest when the realization hits him like a brick to the face and he snaps his mouth shut.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

"That was - that would have been a bad idea," he finally says. "It would have - it would be bad."

"They were into you," Joey says as they reach the lobby of their building. "Either of them would have gone home with you."

"They'd have run screaming," Jason protests. "They were probably just willing to go with me so the other could go with  _ you." _

He doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to think about someone taking off his shirt and the reaction he'd get. The idea makes him feel sick, and Joey throws his arm around Jason's shoulders, making him wobble.

"Jason," he says. "You were absolutely their main point of interest. No question."

"They were-"

"Nope," Joey says, interrupting him in a way he usually can't. "They were into you."

Jason doesn't know what to do with that information, and he's saved from having to respond at all by their arrival at their rooms.

"Think about it," Joey says, clapping Jason on the shoulder. "They were into you, and we'll see them tomorrow."

It's... what, an invitation? A reminder that he could sleep with them if he wanted to? He doesn't know what to make of it, so he simply nods and heads into his room. When he's inside, he presses his back up against the door, sinking down to the floor and pressing his palms to his eyes.

It's a lot. But more than anything else, he can't stop the image from coming to mind: the idea of one of those women—Evi or Sophie—coming back to his room. Of them pulling off his shirt.

Of how they'd react. 

The entire idea is deeply unpleasant, and one he'd prefer not to think of, but the idea of it won't go away. He can't make himself push the image out of his head as he crawls into bed, drinking a bottle of water to stave off the possibility of a hangover.

It takes a long time for him to fall asleep, curled up in his bed trying not to picture it at all.


	22. Chapter 22

It's past nine when Jason wakes, squinting towards the already open windows. Nine means he hasn't checked in with home for almost twelve hours, and when he checks his phone there's a missed call from Slade from two hours before. He calls him back, still in bed, tangled up in his blankets.

"Not dead," Jason grumbles into the phone.

"I know," Slade says. "Already talked to Joey when you didn't pick up. Said you went out drinking and you were probably a bit hungover."

Jason rolls out of bed, grabbing a bottle of water for himself, and chugs it before answering.

"A bit," he admits. "Not too bad."

"I'm supposed to convince you to give the resort's spa a try," Slade says, and Jason sinks back down onto the bed. No question of who's behind _ that. _

"I'm not comfortable," he says pointedly, hoping it'll cut off the entire conversation before it starts.

"I know," Slade says. "I get it."

Slade... probably does. He's one of the few people who have seen Jason mostly naked, a remarkably short list. As far as he knows, outside of the people responsible (who are, as far as he knows, all dead), it's really just Slade and Leslie Thompkins. Others have seen bits and pieces (Alfred's seen his arm from when he needed stitches, Amina's seen part of his side, and Damian saw part of his back once), but for the most part he's kept it to himself.

That's the way he likes it.

That's the way he wants it to stay.

"But they do clothed massages," Slade says. "And you could always go while Joey does a massage and... I don't know, make them do your feet or something."

The scarring on his feet isn't quite as bad, but it's also easier to explain. Lots of people have scarring on their feet, especially if they're into extreme sports. It is, at the very least, not something he can rule out completely.

"Maybe," he says.

"Jason," Slade says quietly. "Are you doing okay?"

He feels sick. He feels sick because it keeps coming up, and he wants it to _ stop _ coming up.

"Jason," Slade says when he doesn't answer. "I know you well enough to know you're upset. If you don't want to do a massage, then you don't have to. Joey seemed interested in the idea, so I thought I'd bring it up." He goes silent for a moment, and Jason doesn't want to think about where Slade's having the conversation. At home? Is Bruce there with him?

"I don't have a ton of time to talk right now," Slade says, as if reading his mind. "But listen: don't bottle this up. If you have an issue, you need to talk about it. Joey might act like he's a really good friend to you, but there's still a lot he doesn't know. He's still new. If you talk to him, I'm sure he'll back off."

Jason's silent, staring down at the floor.

"...And if he doesn't, I'll come kick his ass for you, alright?" Slade says, and Jason smiles despite himself.

"You don't need to," he says quietly. "I can handle this. I just have to... tell him."

"I need to go," Slade says, "but if you need me, just call, alright?"

"Alright," Jason says. "Tell everyone I say hi."

"I will."

Jason takes the fastest shower of his life. If he doesn't even show up until ten, someone's liable to break his door down, and it's already nine fifty five when he reaches the lobby to find it... empty.

No sign of Wintergreen _ or _ Joey.

His face burns with embarrassment, because of _ course _ they're not there. They're not going to just sit there for hours, waiting for him to get out of bed. They're probably off doing things. Getting food or going to the spa or hanging out with his new friends.

His stomach sinks and sinks and _ sinks. _

"Sir?" One of the staff says, and Jason jerks back to reality, turning to face them with a noise that isn't quite a grunt.

"I - yes?" Jason says, looking at the confused man.

"You are Mr. Wilson-Wayne, yes?" Jason has no idea how he recognized him, but considering how high class the resort is supposed to be, he can't muster up the energy to look appropriately surprised, so he simply nods.

"Your party is waiting down by the lagoon pool."

The lagoon pool is the largest of the resort's pools, more focused on looking like a natural part of the scenery then slides or hot tubs. There's sand around it as if it were a part of the ocean, and Jason lets the man guide him down to it, seeing if he can spot them.

Wintergreen's easy enough to spot, lounging on a chaise, but Joey seems to be missing until Jason's almost at Wintergreen, when he pops his head out of the water, raising his arm to wave. He swims forward, grabbing the rocky edge, and then hefts himself out of the water.

"Jason," Wintergreen says, looking up from his book. "Good to see you made it."

As excitedly as Joey was waving, his face looks pinched with worry as he grabs a towel, pulling it around himself while Jason averts his eyes.

The member of the staff who led him over is already gone when Jason glances back, and he ends up sitting down on one of the chairs right as Wintergreen gets up.

"I was going to go fetch snacks," Wintergreen says. "Mind my seat for me, will you?"

He hands off the book to Jason without waiting for a response, heading off towards one of the other buildings.

Which just leaves him with Joey.

Joey, who grabs a big fluffy towel and wraps it around himself, saving Jason the indignity of trying to have a serious conversation while Joey's in nothing but swim trunks and soaking wet.

"I - I'm not really comfortable with the spa thing," Jason says, and Joey's eyebrows go up for a moment before he goes right back to his previous expression which Jason can't read as anything but _ concern. _

_ I got that, _ Joey signs. _ I mean, last night I didn't really get it, but when you didn't come down I kind of figured it out. _

"And..." Jason starts, trying to work his way through the conversation mentally before he actually has it.

_ Or the women, _ Joey signs. _ You aren't interested in random hookups. I shouldn't have pushed. _

Jason's not sure if it's better or worse that Joey's obviously thought about this, and Jason clears his throat, trying to steel his nerve for the conversation.

"Sorry - just - just let me put myself together," he says, hands resting on the top of his legs as he gives them a squeeze, trying to ground himself as he mentally runs through all his exercises.

"I never... did the bar thing," he admits. "Or the dating thing. Or the romance thing. So going to a bar and having girls... hit on me... is well outside of my comfort zone."

In the same way, he supposes, that the moon is far away from Gotham.

"I really wasn't clear about this, and I get why you were confused, but please don't... wing-man for me. I think you were trying to help, but.. Yeah."

He can beat a veritable horde of criminals without breaking a sweat, but telling Joey he doesn't want him wing-manning for him feels like an impossible task.

_ I won't, _ Joey signs. _ You've got my word. I thought it was a self confidence thing, and that you just needed some nudging to feel comfortable, but I definitely misunderstood the situation. _

Jason's having a hard time following Joey's logic, but then he often has a hard time following Joey's logic. Their life experiences are miles apart. Really, very little of Joey's life is something Jason can actually consider _ relatable. _

"Sorry," Jason blurts. "I made this serious."

_ It was already serious, _ Joey signs. _ I spent the last two hours worrying I'd freaked you out and you were going to just be in your room for the rest of the trip until Wintergreen pushed me into the pool and told me to swim it off. _

Oh.

Well then.

Jason glances over his shoulder, but can't spot Wintergreen even as he tries.

"I think he's... lurking nearby," Jason says. "Probably waiting to make sure things are alright." Giving them space, in other words.

_ You want to swim? _ Joey signs, and Jason's stomach flutters again because this is going to just be another issue, isn't it? But he tries anyway, nodding and reaching up to peel off his shirt and pants before getting in.

He doesn't have a swimsuit. He hasn't had a swimsuit since he was a kid. He has a wetsuit that covers him from ankle to wrist to neck, covering basically his entire body. It's a little bit hot, but the water's cool enough to ease that, and he lets out a sigh of relief when he dunks himself under the water, popping back up after a minute. The pool's salt water, which is a unique experience, but he definitely prefers it to chlorine.

He's expecting Joey to comment on the suit, but he doesn't. He doesn't say a single word about it for the five minutes it takes for Wintergreen to return, opting instead to show him some of the pool's scenery.

Wintergreen's brought a bunch of things down for them, and Jason hauls himself onto the black stone that makes up the pool to eat. Things feel considerably more relaxed as they work through the food, resting a bit before heading back into the pool.

It's a slower, less stressful day. One of the staff ends up running an impromptu game of water polo which they join and absolutely dominate, and it's around dinner by the time Jason pulls himself out of the water, unsurprised to realize his hands have gone all pruney.

They're given poolside chairs at one of the restaurants, which seems like an excuse to keep them from soaking the good chairs, and Wintergreen complains that the book he was reading wasn't very good.

They've got one whole day left and then the flight home, and Joey recommends going into town.

_ I want to get some souvenirs, _ Joey signs. _ Maybe you can find a bookstore? _

"Not a bad idea," Wintergreen says as they order a desert. "Assuming no one runs off."

Jason raises a hand.

"On my honor," he says. "I'll stick with the two of you."

_ You'd better, _ Joey signs. _ If you go missing, I'm snitching on you to your dads. _

"And then they'll send Clark," Jason says with a grin. "And then we'll _ all _ be in trouble."

"I wouldn't mind going the rest of the trip without having any other members of the League show up to spy on us," Wintergreen says with a shake of his head. "So let's all keep that in mind."


	23. Chapter 23

To Jason's intense relief, they don't see Evi or Sophie for the rest of the day, nor do they go to the bar. Instead, Wintergreen drags them down to the pub with a promise of 'something amazing'. To both his and Joey's intense disappointment, the 'something amazing' turns out to be an absolutely  _ stunning _ defeat in the soccer game insists on watching. He has a friend, an older man who's retired and apparently supports the same team, who Wintergreen introduces as Nicholas.

"I can't even tell who's playing," Jason confesses.

"Manchester and Liverpool," Joey explains. "Manchester's the ones in red, and Liverpool is in white and Blue. Wintergreen supports Liverpool."

Wintergreen makes the most disgusted face Jason's ever seen, and Nicholas matches his.

"You support  _ Liverpool?"  _ Nicholas says. "And here I thought we had a nice friendship starting here."

"The boy is mistaken," Wintergreen says, wrinkling his nose. "I have supported Manchester my entire life, and to say anything else is a great untruth."

Jason's trying to guess if Slade got his dramatics from Wintergreen, or if Wintergreen got his dramatics from Slade when he catches Joey grinning at Wintergreen.

_ I think he's just decided my universe isn't worth saving, _ Joey signs rather than saying, and Jason tries to cover his laugh with his hand.

"Liverpool," Wintergreen mutters under his breath. "Can't believe it."

Jason and Joey opt to excuse themselves from the conversation (which Jason understands less than half of), grabbing drinks and heading to grab a booth. Jason opts out of alcohol, getting a fancy Italian soda and some nachos for himself, while Joey ends up getting himself an actual drink.

"I can't tell if you were messing with him," Jason says with a grin.

_ Fifty fifty,  _ Joey signs.  _ He really did support Liverpool back at home, but I knew this version was a Manchester fan. _

Jason doesn't  _ get it, _ although he suspects Alfred probably would, so he nods along anyway.

It's not long after the chips arrive that they're interrupted by a man who stops at the edge of their table. He looks nervous, glancing between them, and Jason drops at the look on his face. He's middle aged, with glasses and an excited disposition, and he's practically wringing his hands as his eyes flick between them.

"Sorry," he says, "could I just ask something?"

Jason's debating his options, and decides it's between  _ are you Batman?  _ Or maybe  _ are you Jason Wilson-Wayne? _ He's even seen himself described as Jason Wayne a few times, so he's not entirely ruling that out.

The man's accent is American, and Jason supposes that he's been lucky so far with so few people having recognized him. It's all but inevitable that someone would, and the man doesn't seem to be hostile, just excited.

"Sure," Jason says, popping a chip into his mouth in a move that he hopes establishes an appropriate level of casualness for the conversation to come. No big deal. Nothing to see here.

"How are you talking?" He asks, and it takes Jason an embarrassingly long time to process that he's talking to  _ Joey. _

"Sorry," the man adds, "that came across a bit more rudely then I thought, but earlier you appeared to be talking through your phone without even touching it...?"

"I am so sorry about him," a woman blurts, darting in to grab the man by the elbow as if to pull him away. In a lot of ways she's clearly his match, although a little bit taller than him, even if she's still just as lanky. The largest difference is that where he looks excited, she looks  _ mortified. _

"They said he could ask," the man protests. "This could be important."

"It's rude, important or not," she points out, and Jason spares a glance to Joey, who looks more amused than bothered by the interruption.

"It's fine," Joey says, and the man makes an excited noise, pointing down to the phone as he glances back to the woman.

"See?" He says. "Entirely hands free. I was right. There's no way he could have typed that, because his hands were above the table the whole time."

The woman looks  _ slightly _ more curious and a lot less embarrassed as she leans forward, eyeing the phone.

"We've been debating," she admits. "We passed by you on the way in, and he insisted that was what was happening, but I told him it couldn't be, and he was mistaken, but..."

"But was right," he insists. "So I was right to ask, and I've been nothing but polite, so it's not a big deal."

"Maybe," she says skeptically, her eyes going between Joey's phone, Joey's face, and then down to Joey's neck. He's wearing a shirt that isn't quite as high-necked as usual, the top of his scar peeking out, and when he catches her looking, he reaches up, pulling it down to demonstrate.

"I'm mute," he says. "My vocal cords were severed years ago."

"And yet you are communicating perfectly clearly via what appears to be a completely ordinary cellphone," the man says. "Which is... beyond fascinating. Unreal?"

"It's subvocal communication," Joey explains. "Implants." He gestures to the spots on his throat where the implants must be, but the answer doesn't seem to satisfy either.

"It can't be," she says. "I mean, it literally  _ cannot _ be. Not just as a statement of disbelief, but... it can't."

"The technology simply does not exist," the man says. "You would have to be a time traveler-"

"Or from another dimension," Joey clarifies.

"Oh thank god," the man says, which is such a ridiculous reaction that Jason can't stop himself from bursting into laughter. The man's just established he's standing beside a dimension hopper, and yet he seems completely  _ relieved. _

"Please don't mind him," the woman says, shooting her partner a dirty look. "He was just worried about the possible implications for us. My name is Mary Tinia, and he's Jack Tinia."

"We're both Doctor Tinia most of the time," he says. "But not that kind of doctor."

"Scientists?" Jason guesses. It makes sense, considering their apparent knowledge of subvocal communication.

"Researchers," Mary confirms. "I primarily deal with the physics of sound, while he's a biologist."

"We're working on a project related to subvocal recognition," Jack adds, and Jason decides things have gone on long enough, so he scoots over and gestures for them to sit.

They do, and Mary turns out to be as excited as Jack about the whole thing.

"So imagine our absolute horror when we thought—just for a bit mind you—that not only had someone produced a working system, but they'd run through human trials, implanted it in a subject, and had them wandering around like it wasn't any big deal."

"That'd be the sort of thing that would put us out of a job," Jack says. "Finding out you're from another dimensi-"

Jack stops, looking at Jason.  _ Squinting _ at Jason.

"I know you," he says abruptly. "I've seen you before-"

"Jason Wilson-Wayne," Jason says, rather than making him stumble around until he makes the connection.

"Oh!" Mary says. "That helps clarify the  _ other dimension _ thing. There was a press conference..."

"Who knew it would relate to our work so directly?" Jack says. "You weren't brought here just for that, were you?"

"Oh no," Joey says. "I chose to come here for unrelated reasons. This isn't exactly a common procedure, but I'm hardly the first patient with it."

"Do you know how it works...?" Mary asks, leaning forward to look at the scar again.

"I couldn't be much help," Joey admits. "Four pads, implanted along my throat to pick up the impulses."

"You're right," Mary says with a sigh. "The detection is the easy part. The hard part is translating those readings into sound."

"Technology's better in his world," Jason explains. "So you might not have the technology yet."

"At least we know it's possible," Jack says, his enthusiasm infectious. "We've been at a standstill for months, and people were starting to wonder if it was even possible. Not enough input, effectively. But now we've seen a proof of concept. It  _ can _ be done... we just have to figure out how."

"You make it sound so easy!" Mary says. "But you're right - just knowing it's possible is beyond helpful."

In the end, the couple end up giving Joey their contact information, asking him to contact them if he feels comfortable. While they doubt there's much to be found, a scan of the implants might provide some insight, and he promises to call them when they're back at home.

"But not too soon," Mary says. "We're not back for another two weeks. We're going to Barbados after this."

They exchange pleasantries, and leave, and when Jason and Joey wrap up their food they discover that someone has already paid their tab. Not hard to guess who, but the couple's long gone before they have a chance to thank them.

"That wasn't so bad," Jason says as they walk back to the room. "You were okay with it...?" He's a bit wary, unsure of how used to talking about it Joey is, but he seems perfectly fine.

_ I've had to explain it a lot, _ he signs.  _ As long as people aren't rude, and don't treat me like I'm brain damaged, it's fine. _

"People do that?" Jason asks, before realizing that the answer is  _ yes they absolutely do. _

_ Sometimes, _ Joey signs.  _ Especially if they can't see the scar. They seem to have an easier time when they know it's from trauma. _

"Honestly I was kind of worried I was... I don't know, treating it wrong? I don't really have any experience with anyone who's mute, or even anyone who's deaf. Bruce and Alfred were the ones who taught me ASL, so I didn't even get any exposure that way."

_ You're fine, _ Joey signs as they reach the lobby to their own building.  _ Really. You don't infantilize me, you treat me just like everyone else... That's pretty much all I ask. You're doing great with it. _

Jason is doing his best not to blush and failing miserably. It's not even a compliment—treating someone like an adult rather than a child isn't something he should be getting a pat on the back for—but hearing it  _ sounds _ like a compliment, and his brain fixes firmly on that. 

_ Jason, _ Joey signs,  _ can I ask you a kind of insensitive question? In private, maybe? _

Jason's already not prepared, but he nods anyway. In the end, they head to his room simply because it's closer, and Jason tries not to let his nerves get to him as he glances back to Joey.

_ Maybe I should have asked this before, _ Joey signs.  _ I always kind of noticed you didn't show much skin, but I assumed you were just trying to maintain your identity. When you came out and were still wearing long sleeves, I figured it was nerves. But I'm guessing that's not why...? _

Oh. It explains a lot, and Jason rifles back through what he's told Joey. Joey knows about the Joker—knows he did bad things—but he doesn't know what, or how bad it was. He's used to a Joker who  _ killed _ his counterpart, not one who  _ tortured,  _ and even if he wasn't, it's hard for people to really understand the scale of it. It's almost impossible for anyone to really get just how bad it was.

It's like being told a million people died. Past a certain point, the brain just tunes it out, unable to understand the scope of the suffering.

"How -" Jason starts, faltering as he second guesses himself before he decides that it's the easiest way to explain. "How long do you think I was with the Joker?"

Joey seems caught off guard by the question, his eyes narrowing in thought.

_ You said six months? _ He signs, and Jason shakes his head.

"It was... it was six months before I was killed, as far as Bruce knows. I was captured eight months after I became Robin. Six months after that, I was shot and nearly killed. But I was kept after that. I escaped..."

He has to stop, just for a moment. It took him a long time to reach that point, to recognize just how  _ long _ it was. Even knowing the dates he's been taken and the dates he'd gotten out, his brain hadn't accepted it. His brain had just refused to face reality.

Joey looks nervous, dreading what he knows is coming.

"I was held for forty-five months."

Joey stares. He doesn't look like he's even capable of  _ processing _ what he was just told.

Forty-five months. More months than most people spend in high school. He was sixteen when he was captured, nineteen when he escaped, and as he watches, Jason can see Joey working all that out for himself, running the numbers in his head and becoming increasingly agitated.

_ I'm sorry, _ he signs.  _ I didn't know. _

"I know," Jason says. "That's why - why I'm telling you. What happened is... it left a lot of marks, and I don't want to distress people with it."

He knows people would be distressed. He knows they'd be horrified. He's an absolute mess beneath his clothes, and that's why they stay on.

_ I'm sorry, _ Joey signs again. He looks genuinely apologetic, but there's an undercurrent of something that Jason can only recognize as horror. He doesn't want to see either. Now that he knows how bad it is-

_ I don't think people would be distressed, _ Joey signs, and Jason shakes his head. He still doesn't get it. He still doesn't understand.

"They're worse than you're thinking," he says. "They're... They're really bad. They're not the scars of a vigilante."

He doesn't say the rest of what he's thinking: that they're the scars of a victim.

_ I won't push, _ Joey signs, backing off physically as much as he is emotionally.  _ I'm still sorry I did before. But if you ever want to talk... _

"I'll add you to the list of people who've offered to talk," Jason says, trying not to sound too bitter. Bruce is on the list. So's Slade. It's a fairly big list, but the fact is that he simply doesn't want to talk about it.

_ I should go,  _ Joey signs.  _ But we're still on for tomorrow? _

Jason's done this before. He's had this talk. So he simply nods. This isn't worse than what happened the night before, and Joey's made it  _ painfully _ clear he's not going to push. Slade was right: they talked, Joey backed off, things are better.

He just can't help but wish that everything else worked so easily. Talking his scars away would be a lot easier than dealing with the reality that they're there for good.


	24. Chapter 24

For all the stress the night before, Jason sleeps just fine. He wakes on time, hops in the shower, and then calls Bruce to check in. Bruce responds mostly in grunts, which Jason expects, but that's fine: the point is to make it obvious he's checking in, not dead, and all that positive stuff.

He makes it to the door before he stops himself, anxiety licking up his spine.

He still hasn't done his homework.

Maybe it's stupid and childish, but the fact that he hasn't bothers him. He feels like he's cheating, like he's sneaking around behind someone's back. Even if Hudson's the only one who will know (and he has almost a full week before he has to talk about it), _ he _ knows that he's been avoiding it.

The one person he can't hide from is himself, so he drags himself back into the bathroom to stare into the mirror. He doesn't want to risk screwing up his day, but he also doesn't want to make _ no _ progress, so he decides a compromise is necessary. He doesn't have to look at _ all _ of them. He can just do it one scar at a time, one a day, until he's done them all. The first one is the easiest: the bullet wound on his shoulder, courtesy of Slade. The first time they met, he thinks, only to realize it wasn't. Just the first time in his adult life.

He distracts himself looking over the scars on his face rather than doing what he should. He drags his fingers over the line on his face that was once his brand, down to a little nick on his upper lip that never quite healed. There are others, but they're small, harder to see. Things that only he notices, and sometimes even only when he goes looking. The little dots on the side of his neck from when Harley played vampire. A little cut on the other side.

He knows he's putting it off, so he makes himself breathe and pulls the neck of his shirt aside.

It is, much as Hudson said it would be, not as bad as he feared. There's only one scar between his neck and the scar Slade gave him, and it's easy enough to skip over. It was a clean shot, so the scar's fairly shallow, more of a dent than anything else. The flesh there is white, but aside from some puckering it's not nearly as bad as some others on his body. It's a nice, safe place to start, and he drags his fingers over it, making himself keep his breathing even.

He drags it out for a whole minute (or what _ feels _ like a whole minute), and then pulls his fingers back, adjusting the neck of his shirt with a sigh.

Not so bad. He can do that.

He does what he can to put it out of his mind, heading down to the lobby. He actually gets there before Wintergreen or Joey, but neither keeps him waiting long.

"So," Wintergreen says, "into town to play tourist?"

They take a cab into town from the resort and head into the market. The whole town is very much catered to tourists, with plenty of stands and signs that seem to operate predominantly in English.

Jason knows he stressed Bruce and Slade out by going off with Bane. He _ knows _ it. Which means he's going to have to make it perfectly clear how much he cares about them, and how sorry he is.

He does it with gifts, the same way Bruce himself does.

There seem to be a million different things for sale, so he takes his time as they work their way through the market. Some things show up repeatedly—it seems like every stand has rum for offer of varying qualities—but others are unique. He finds a handmade dog collar made of leather for Titus, an ornamental knife for Damian (no matter how they try, he's never going to get over _ that), _ some high quality rum and cigars for Slade... He ends up buying some jewelry with a local type of gemstone for Barbara, and then has to double back to get stuff for Dick and Tim just so no one feels left out. Bruce feels harder to buy for (he's _ always _ hard to buy for), and Jason ends up finding him an ornamental letter opener with a handle made of the same stone as Barbara's jewelry. He picks up a few things for the house (a handmade hammock chief among them), and then checks in with Joey, who's doing much the same thing. As far as he can tell Joey's pretending to speak neither English nor Spanish, using simple hand gestures to make his wants clear.

Joey is also, as he discovers when they grab lunch, a much better haggler than he is.

_ Have you been paying full price? _Joey asks, looking genuinely mystified.

"...Yes?" Jason says. "Am I not supposed to?"

"Generally no," Wintergreen says. "Santa Prisca assumes you will attempt to haggle, and so everything is quite marked up."

_ Think of it this way, _ Joey signs. _ You've made a lot of people very happy. _

Considering the sharp divide between tourist areas and local areas, Jason can't bring himself to feel particularly bad about it. A part of him worries they're going to get jumped, but at no point during the morning does he feel any real danger.

He supposes, when he has time to think about it, that it would be notoriously bad for business if they were in any danger. Much of Santa Prisca lives and dies by its tourism industry, and while Santa Prisca is infamous for its corruption and danger, Jason can't remember having heard of any _ tourists _ getting hurt.

Wintergreen, however, does not find what he needs. He's bought some gifts (or at least something, because Jason spots him at a few registers, handing over cash), but there's no bookstores at all. When they ask, they're directed into the capitol almost an hour away.

"Could wait for the airport," Jason says, "or we could always visit the capitol."

It's just past one, which leaves them plenty of time to get there, look around, shop, eat, and get back to the resort. In the end, they take a cab back to the resort, drop their things off, and then take another cab into Santa Prisca's capitol.

It's a very different experience. Back in the small town near their resort, tourism was close to the _ only _ thing happening. It was their bread and butter. In the capitol, there's more variety, and less interest in tourists. The shops are intended for people who live there, rather than people looking for souvenirs. It's easy enough to find a bookstore with a small section of English books, and while there's not much selection, Wintergreen finds something he likes.

Jason picks up a few more gifts, quizzing the shopkeeper in broken Spanish to find out if there are any books that teach the local dialect. The answer he gets is both a _ no _ and an outright laugh, and the shopkeeper explains that almost no one speaks anything but Spanish or English anymore, and that there are no books for the dialect at all.

The only thing he ends up learning is that it's not a _ dialect _ at all, but a fully fledged language, even if it's a dying one.

Which Jason supposes is likely one of the reasons Bane speaks it: if no one _ else _ knows it, even if they're overheard, it means nothing.

They grab dinner at a place recommended by a shopkeeper, trying not to look too much like the tourists they absolutely are. It's a loud, crowded place, with cheap food that tastes delicious, and they have to send Wintergreen to grab a table as they get their food from the kitchen counter. It's an unusual setup, but does seem to make things pretty efficient.

They're midway through dinner when Joey abruptly grabs his wrist, stealing Jason's attention. He pauses mid-bite, looking over to Joey, who quickly signs, his hands low to the table.

_ No one panic, _ he signs, which is the fastest way to make most people panic, and Jason's impressed to see that Wintergreen keeps his cool. _ Be subtle. Three tables behind Wintergreen, two to the left. _

Jason goes first. It's easy enough to spot the table he's directing them to, because of all the tables they're the one that looks the most like tourists. The table has four people at it, two women and two men, but none of them seem familiar. There's a blond woman who might be South American, slim and lanky, a bald man with dark black tattoos that wrap across his shaved head, someone with a shock of long white hair, and a man who Jason guesses is in his late thirties, with brown hair and skin so pale he makes the three of them look positively tanned.

The issue is that he has no idea who he's looking at, so he glances back to Joey, raising his eyebrows.

_ You don't recognize any of them? _ Joey signs, looking absolutely mystified.

_ The one woman is Copperhead, _ Wintergreen signs. _ Assassin who previously attempted to kill Batman. _

_ The one with the white hair is Rose! _ Joey signs, and Jason very nearly spins in his seat for another look.

Rose. Rose? The same woman who tried to kill him, the one who represented the court of owls. Slade's daughter. But she's not just that: back in his own dimension, she's also Joey's sister, and Jason's kicking himself for not having recognized her immediately. How many people _naturally_ have white hair?

But she's in jail. Which doesn't explain how she's _ there, _ sitting in the Santa Priscan capitol. Or at least it doesn't until Jason applies some critical thinking and realizes the obvious solution: Rose (and apparently Copperhead) have been recruited by Amanda Waller to Task Force X.

Which brings so many problems to the table Joey doesn't even know where to start. Beyond the obvious issues of _ they recruited Rose for Task Force X, _there's also the very pressing question of why they're there.

Someone's probably getting killed, and Jason is a bit too emotionally invested in it _ not _ being Bane.

_ What's the plan? _ He signs, food forgotten. If they call Bruce, they can have Clark there in no time. But if they call Clark, they're going to end up with an _ incident. _ Task Force X shouldn't exist, and it sure as hell shouldn't exist in an entirely different country.

_ I want to talk to her, _ Joey signs, and Jason winces because that's the _ worst _ thing they can do.

_ Alright, _ Jason signs back. _ We need to find out what they're after. That's priority number one. Depending on what it is, we might need to intervene. _

"Allow me to cut in," Wintergreen says quietly, apparently deciding that his ASL isn't good enough to keep up. "You do realize that this is the worst possible idea in this situation, and that the _ correct _ option would be to leave?"

_ I wasn't Batman for years because I walked away from situations like this, _ Jason signs, raising his eyebrows.

"Point taken," Wintergreen says. "Then allow me to point out that you have a significant tactical advantage. You are aware of them, you have the ear of their most likely target, and you have backup as needed. It is possible you may be able to convince their commanding officer to withdraw without the need for violence at all, as they are severely outgunned."

_ They might not be after Bane, _ Joey signs. _ We should draw the line now though. If they're here to kill someone, we're stopping them? _

"Agreed," Jason says quietly, his eyes flicking over. The group's eating, talking among themselves, and not paying them any attention.

"I will, however, _ insist _ you keep your parents in the loop," Wintergreen says. "If anything happens, I would prefer to have people handy."

"Hold on," Jason says. "I've got this."

He pulls out his phone, mentally deciding how best to bring things up, and then decides that direct is best.

**Jason: **Task Force X in SP capital. Aiming for non-violent deescalation.

**Bruce: **I'm sending Superman.

**Jason: **Have him stand by. Don't want an incident.

**Bruce: **You do not have gear.

**Jason: **Don't need gear. Again, non-violent deescalation. I will not engage.

**Bruce: **Wait for Clark's confirmation.

Jason _ almost _ texts 'or what, you'll ground me?' before deciding that he's stressed his family enough for one trip, and opts to hold off.

**Jason: **Alright. We'll wait.

He relays the information back to Joey and Wintergreen, and then get about to actually eating, keeping an eye on the other table. Ten minutes later, Bruce relays that Clark is directly above them and ready to assist, and it looks like the other table is about done.

_ Here's the plan, _ Jason signs. _ Let them finish up, follow them out, confront in the street. _

_ If a fight starts, who am I grabbing? _Joey signs.

"I'll collect your body," Wintergreen says, apparently well aware of Joey's power set. "Might I recommend you play it by ear? I am unsure of who the other two members of their party are."

_ Got it, _ Joey signs. _ I'll follow your lead, Jason. _


	25. Chapter 25

Their targets leave after another ten minutes or so, and Jason makes a point of double checking with Wintergreen that he's alright with what's happening.

"A bit of fun now and again does the body good," he says with a wink as if he's sneaking off to join a game of lawn bowling and not sneaking up on Task Force X.

Jason doubts they're going to be able to do much sneaking. Unless every member of the group they're after has  _ zero  _ survival skills, they probably already suspect someone's after them, even if Jason's keeping his distance. Most of them are probably professionals: they should be good enough to tell when they're being followed.

Jason's not surprised when the group they're tailing turns the corner, and he swings wide to avoid any possible traps. But when they round the corner (giving plenty of space in case someone swings at them), the squad's a little ways back, turned to face them, squared up for a fight.

"Who the hell are- oh fuck," the tattooed man says, grimacing as his eyes find Jason.

"Oh fuck indeed," Jason says. "So, I figure we can find some place private to talk, or else I can make things really difficult for you."

He points a finger upwards, and while the tattooed man keeps his focus on Jason, the other three all look up.

"Oh come on," the pale man says. "You brought backup? That's not even fair."

"So much for covert ops," Copperhead says under her breath.

Rose is silent, her eyes fixed on Jason, and he does what he can to ignore the intensity of her gaze. He guesses he should probably have stronger feeling about her, but he doesn't. At best, it's a sense of ambivalence. She tried to kill him, but that was three years ago.

He even once tried to play at being pen pals, writing her a letter every month, but after six months with no response he'd given up, letting it fall by the wayside.

They have no real relationship. She's been left behind, alone in prison.

Jason fights the urge to fold his arms over his chest, letting them hang so they're ready to be used. Realistically speaking, they're almost definitely outgunned, but he only has to hold out a few seconds before Clark will show up, so he's not concerned.

"Right now, we just want to talk," Jason says. "So let's talk."

"Talk," Copperhead says. "Easy for you to say."

"Let's just let the guy talk," the pale guy says. "At this point, we're already completely fucked, so we've got nowhere to go but up."

"He could be leading us into a trap," Copperhead points out, and Rose snorts, speaking for the first time.

"He doesn't kill," she says. "The only trap he could put us in is the one we're already in. None of us are going to be able to take Superman if he comes down here, and there's no point in trying."

The tattooed man gestures for them to follow and turns away.

They don't have far to go. There's a small house that Jason's pretty sure is intended for use as a hostel, with a wide open dirt yard leading up to a house. There's a low fence, which Jason realizes he should probably feel more strongly about, but as long as they stay outside, Clark's near at hand.

"This is far enough," Jason says, unwilling to walk into a den with what might very well have  _ more _ members. "What are you after?"

"What, no introductions?" The pale guy says. "I was hoping for an autograph."

"Oh, can it," Rose says, turning her attention back to Jason. "Get to the point."

"That is my point," he says. "I want to know what you're after."

"Does it matter?" Copperhead says. "No matter what we say, the end is the same."

"Not necessarily," Jason says. "Depending on what you're after, it might be better for us to let you get it over with. Having Superman pick up a pack of metahumans who were sent to a foreign country on behalf of the US is a pretty bad look for us, and while I'm not  _ working _ for the government, I'd prefer not to work against them, either."

Maybe it's a bit selfish, but right then what he  _ really _ wants is for the whole thing to splash back onto Waller. Task Force X is supposed to have been disbanded, and the fact that it's  _ not _ leads back to a single person.

The members of the task force exchange a glance, and Jason can't, for the life of him, figure out who the leader is supposed to be. Do they not  _ have _ a leader? Or is the leader just not there right then?

It's Rose who takes command of the situation.

"Would it surprise you to learn that the same branch of the military that the Court worked with also had an interest in venom?"

The answer is a resounding  _ no. _ That information doesn't surprise him at all.

"Let me guess," Jason says with a sigh. "You're here to retrieve the information? Or just destroy it."

"Retrieve if we can, destroy if we can't."

Alright. He can work with this.

"More information?" He prompts, and Rose's eyes slide between Wintergreen and Joey.

"They're fine," Jason says. "You can just ignore them for now."

"A politician has the information," the pale guy says. "Boss is worried he's going to use it against us. Keeps it in a safe in his office."

"I said we should have burned it out," the tattooed man says. "But apparently the safe's fireproof."

"So, information in the safe," Jason says. "You want it."

The whole thing passes the sniff test. Waller is many things, but  _ practical _ is effectively at the top of the list. Bane is a nice big target, but he's not actually a  _ threat. _ He's not doing anything that would make her go after him, and a politician holding potential blackmail material  _ is. _

It also makes sense that collecting the information is first priority, and destroying it second. Murder would draw too much attention.

Which means he can work with this.

"Who's the politician?"

"A guy named Valdez," Rose says. "His office is nearby, which is why we were waiting until it emptied out."

"Attorney General," Wintergreen tells him. "I believe it goes without saying that he's horrifically corrupt, considering the state of Santa Prisca's legal system."

"Neat," Jason says, feeling a whole lot more confident. No one's shooting him. He can do this. "Here's the deal: we're going to tag team and get that safe and the information within it."

The pale guy quirks an eyebrow.

"Hold on," he says. "Batman's helping us? Isn't that like... the opposite of what you do?"

"One, I'm retired," Jason says. "Two, I help stop crimes. A corrupt asshole who insists on blackmailing a bunch of people is a crime. Three, you're going to do this with or without us, so I might as well do this in such a way that it minimizes the chance of someone getting killed."

Jason's phone rings, and he glances down to find the caller ID listed as  _ unknown number. _

"Hold on," Jason says. "This is probably supes."

It is, in fact, Clark.

"Jason," he says. "Not to second guess you, but do you know what you're doing?"

"Oh sure," Jason says. "We've got this in the bag. Feel free to observe, but we should be done within an hour so you get back home."

"Within an  _ hour?"  _ The tattooed man says. "What?"

Jason gestures for silence.

"Alright," Clark says. "I'll stay up above and observe. Just whistle if you need me to drop in."

"Got it," Jason says. "Thanks."

He hangs up, tucking his phone away, and then cracks his fingers.

"Alright," he says. "I assume you have a physical way to get through the safe door, and a knowledge of its location?"

The entire squad looks taken aback by the entire turn of events, but both Wintergreen and Joey seem to be rolling with the punches. Jason suspects Joey's already figured out his plan.

"I've got a fancy gun that freezes things," the pale guy says. "I freeze the safe, crack the door open, we've got what we need."

"I burn the place down to cover our tracks," the tattooed man says.

Jason holds up a hand.

"Names? I already know Copperhead and... whatever code name she's using," he says, gesturing to Rose.

"Ravager," she says simply, and Joey makes a little choked noise that draws attention. Jason forges on, turning his attention to the other two.

"Names?"

"Captain Cold," the pale guy says, right as the tattooed man says his name. "El Diablo."

"Good," Jason says. "A map?"

Copperhead produces a simple map of the building, with the office highlighted.

_ Are we doing the plan I think we're doing? _ Joey signs, and Jason grins at him.

"We sure are," he says. "No muss, no fuss, no one gets hurt, no one can figure it out." He looks up to Rose. "So, when does Valdez leave?"

"Should be soon," she says. "...Why?"

Jason doesn't explain, just gestures for them to follow and gets to work.


	26. Chapter 26

"I'm too recognizable," Jason admits once they've grabbed a spot in an alley within sight of the building they're going to be infiltrating. "Otherwise I'd go. Can you...?" He turns to Wintergreen, who sighs and nods.

"Of course I would be the most appropriate. I assume we'll be making use of the Captain's gun?"

"Wait," Cold says, "you're taking my gun?"

"You'll get it back," Jason says. "Hand it over, we don't have a ton of time."

Cold does hand his gun over, looking deeply reluctant as Wintergreen unloads his shopping bag into Jason's own, wrapping the gun in some paper and placing it into the now emptied bag.

"Is this some kind of pre-existing plan?" Rose hisses. "Because this seems like something that should be talked about." Considering the situation, Jason's pretty sure she's thinking of the bomb in her neck and what'll happen if they fail.

"Only one plan that makes any sense," Wintergreen says. "Considering our objectives."

The less they say, the better, but Joey does make a point of clarifying a few points before they go.

_ Do you want me to grab everything?  _ He signs, and Jason nods.

"Whistle if you need backup," he says.

Joey turns to Wintergreen, carrying out a rapid conversation in sign to make sure they have their story straight. Jason turns his attention to Rose, looking her over and deciding that he can deal with it after they have the information.

"He's leaving now," Copperhead says. "That's him coming down the stairs. Once he's gone-"

Wintergreen grab his shopping bag, heading out of the alley and towards Valdez's office.

"What the  _ hell  _ is he doing?" El Diablo whispers. "Is this the plan?"

"This is the plan," Jason says. The whole thing is happening too far away for them to hear what's being said, but Wintergreen raises his hand, waving towards Valdez as he approaches. Joey taps Jason's shoulder. He crumples right as Jason moves to catch him, easing him back down as everyone else panics.

"What the hell is even happening?" Cold says. "What are you doing?"

"That's for me to know and you to wonder for the rest of your life," Jason says. He adjusts Joey's body, keeping it supported as he watches the scene. Valdez speaks with Wintergreen, accepts the bag from him, and then heads back into the office. Two of his bodyguards go with him, while the rest hang around his limo (because of course it's a goddamn limo), ignoring Wintergreen's attempt to make smalltalk.

"Is this even working?" El Diablo says. "Because one of you is unconscious and the other appears to be in league with our enemy."

"No," Cold says. "He has my gun, which means he's... I don't even know. Getting Valdez to take the gun up? The blond kid has to be a meta."

"Just sit tight," Jason says. "Things are going just fine." He doesn't want to risk any of them running off because they don't know the plan. All they have to do is sit there and do nothing and the problem will solve itself.

The entire plan takes just under fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes of Task Force X shooting him concerned looks. Of Rose's unhappy expression fixed on him. Of Joey's limp body beside him, leaning against him for support. He keeps them out of sight, with Copperhead (who has the best eyesight) keeping an eye on Wintergreen.

"Valdez is there," Copperhead says, and Jason wraps an arm across Joey's back, hefting his weight as they head to the entrance. He has to make sure Joey's body is visible, which means keeping him standing until Joey manages to hop back.

It takes longer than he thought, and he can see in the distance Wintergreen talking with Valdez as he wraps up the conversation in a reasonable manner. Eventually he turns away, heading back towards them with the bag in hand. He's almost back to the alley when Joey suddenly moves, and Jason pulls him back, out of sight.

_ Done, _ Joey signs as he shifts to support his own weight.  _ Wintergreen has it. _

"Excellent job," Wintergreen says as he rounds the corner. "Now let's get out of here before he notices."

_ That's assuming he does, _ Joey signs.  _ He shouldn't remember anything that happened. _

"If we're done," Rose says, her eyes going down to the bag in Wintergreen's hand. "Then let's fall back."

They keep quiet on the way to the hostel, and they make it to the yard before Cold gets a call.

"Hold on," he says. "It's the boss."

"Put her on speaker," Jason says, and Cold looks  _ horrified _ for a second, glancing to Rose who shrugs and gives him the go-ahead.

"I want a status update," Waller says, and Jason rolls his eyes.

"Hey Waller," he says, enjoying the little grunt he gets in response. She is  _ not _ happy to hear someone else on the line, and he suspects she recognizes his voice simply from their few interactions. "Fancy meeting your boys here in Santa Prisca."

"What do you want, Wilson?"

"I want a lot of things," Jason says. "I want to know why Task Force X still exists, for one. But I think, priority wise, what I want is for your team to be safely back in the US by tomorrow evening. The job's finished, they're at no risk, and I know who they are. If they show up dead, we're going to have an issue."

"You don't have a say in this," Waller says, daring him to argue.

There's a blur of blue, and then Clark is simply  _ there, _ leaning over the phone. He looks really,  _ really _ angry.

"I do," Clark says, "and we're going to have a nice long talk when I get back stateside. So you had better make sure your whole team makes it safely back to their cells."

He never actually threatens Waller, but his tone makes it clear enough.

Waller grunts.

"I'm going to go through that information you wanted them to grab," Jason says, his eyes fixed on Clark, "and if it turns out you were trying to find a way to manufacture venom, then we're going to have even  _ more _ issues."

"It isn't," Waller says. "It's simply information that incriminates people that  _ you _ don't want incriminated any more than I do."

"I'll make sure of that," Jason says.

"I need to go before someone sees me," Clark says quietly, clapping Jason on the shoulder. "I'll be nearby."

He takes off, and a minute later some locals pass by, giving the scene in the yard only a few quick glances.

"I assume they leave tomorrow morning?" Jason asks, turning his attention back to the phone. Cold shoots him a thumbs up, confirming his speculation.

"Just tell the team to stick to the extraction plan," Waller says, hanging up without saying anything more. Jason sighs, handing the phone back.

"Huh," Cold says, "didn't expect the Bat to go to bat for us."

Rose groans, rolling her eyes.

"How many times am I going to have to tell you to cut the puns?"

"I'll pun where I please," Cold says. "Especially since we just got through an entire job without firing a shot. Speaking of which - where the hell's my gun?"

Wintergreen looks to Jason, who gives a nod, and Wintergreen fishes into his bag, retrieving the gun and handing it back.

"Nice," Cold says, tucking it into his jacket.

"I need to go through the evidence," Jason says. He's not really looking forward to it, considering what he can see looks like an absolute  _ stack, _ but he knows, even without asking, that Joey wants to talk to Rose. He keeps catching Joey sneaking peeks, and Jason can't really blame him. She's his sister's counterpart, but also a mile apart from what he was used to.

None of the squad argue, and Jason doesn't expect them to. They have no reason to do anything but play along, because they're effective shielded from Waller's anger. If anything happens to them, things are going to go badly for her. Amanda Waller is many things, but reckless isn't one of them.

"If we're done, then I want to go drinking," El Diablo says. "Not like I'm going to get this chance again."

"You can count me in on that," Cold says. "Boss?"

He looks to Rose, who does appear to be in charge, even if she's not doing a particularly good job of it.

"I want her to stay," Jason says, trying to make his glance towards Joey as casual as possible. "I need at least one of you on hand."

"And not me?" Copperhead asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Just go," Rose says, waving Copperhead off. "Everyone be back in two hours. Enjoy the bit of time you have your freedom."

Copperhead shrugs, and in the end she leaves with Diablo and Cold, heading into the city to enjoy what time they have.

Rose turns her attention back to Jason, eyes narrowing.

"For the record," she says, "I don't actually want to talk with you."

"It's not me you're talking to," Jason says.

Joey raises his hand, his nerves showing as he pulls out his phone, the screen lighting up to allow him to talk.

"It's me," he says. "Maybe we could talk inside?"

Rose looks at Joey properly for what must feel like the first time, squinting at him as she looks him over. There's some recognition there, but it's not as if she has a Joey to compare to, so in the end she simply shrugs.

"Sure," she says.

Jason, on the other hand, has other things to worry about. He tips his head back up, staring up at the sky.

"Superman?" He says, very nearly calling him Clark. "You up there?"

Wintergreen hands Jason the bag, and then follows Rose and Joey into the house. Superman touches down a moment later, and Jason's not sure if he was waiting for it to be clear, or for them to be out of close proximity. Rose's senses limit what they can say, but Jason can work around it as needed.

"I'm not going to go back until I know you're safely back at your hotel," he says. "Bruce would kill me if I did."

"I know," Jason says, "and I appreciate it. I figure you want to go home pretty soon, and I thought you might have some insight on what I'm looking for in this." He hefts the bag, hoping without it being said that Clark gets the  _ because you're a journalist _ indications.

"What am I looking for, exactly?" He asks, and ends up heading into the house just to get out of the yard.

"We need to know why Waller was after it, and pull any documents that might... screw things up for us."

Clark's already rifling through the papers, his lips pressed together in a tight frown.

"There's more here," he says. "He's blackmailing a lot of people."

"Good," Jason says, before realizing he said  _ good _ to someone being blackmailed. "I mean-"

"I get it," Clark says with a laugh. "What were you planning?"

"Ideally I'd prefer this evidence to go to someone reliable. If this were Gotham, I'd take it to Gordon, or maybe the mayor. But Santa Prisca... doesn't have that. The police are corrupt and the politicians are corrupt."

"Ideally you'd get this to a good journalist," Clark says pointedly, "but finding out who's legitimate or not may prove... difficult. Especially on such short notice."

Oh boy. He doesn't want to just grab it and run off with it. He wants, ideally, at least some level of Clark's approval. The issue is going to be  _ getting _ Clark's approval, because... well, it's not as if he has a legitimate source.

"How much do you know about Santa Prisca's situation?"

"A fair amount," Clark says. "I'm sure you can guess why."

"If I said I was on good terms with Bane?"

"Then I would have a lot of questions for you fathers, for one," Clark says, "but I see what you're getting at." He doesn't look terribly happy with the options, his foot tapping as he starts rifling through the papers.

"We have limited options," Clark says after a moment. "Pressure from outside of Santa Prisca isn't going to mean much. Internal pressure would be ideal, but difficult to apply."

He taps his foot faster, his hands blurring as he sorts things out, holding out a stack of papers.

"These ones are political blackmail. Evidence of corruption, people in high up places... things like that. These ones-" He gestures to the pile in his other hand. "-are what Waller was after. Things that implicate the same section of the military who were involved in the night of the owls. If someone got their hands on these, it could make the military look very bad, or even be used to blackmail people."

"And the rest?" Jason asks, looking down to the pile on the floor.

"More cut and dried blackmail." Clark says. "Affairs. Proof that a few figures in and around the city are homosexual. Things which are embarrassing or socially unacceptable, but harming no one."

Well, that makes it easy.

"We torch the bag, you take the stuff Waller was after, and we drop this stuff-" He waves the stack Clark gave him, "-with Bane?"

"Do you trust him to make sure it gets to the right people?" Clark asks.

For Jason, it's not that kind of trust.

"I trust he'll do what's right for Santa Prisca," he says. He has a wife. A little girl. And he wants what's best for them by any means necessary.

It's better than just destroying it. It's better than letting them get away with it, and he trusts Clark's assessment of the information.

"Alright," Clark says. "I assume you know how to find him?"

"If you can fly me, I can drop it off tonight," Jason says. He doubts Bane will be happy with that, but he's hoping the information will make up for it.

Clark turns his head, and Jason's pretty sure he's listening to Rose and Joey talk in the next room.

"Things are going fairly well," he says quietly. "I think we'll be fine to go for now, and I... don't want to interrupt."

Clark disposes of the extra blackmail before they go, tucking what he's keeping into his suit, and then picks Jason up (his own blackmail tucked into his shirt) and heads out the door.

It's not the first time he's flown with Clark, and Jason's careful to keep his mouth shut as they fly. Jason directs him, trying to figure out where exactly he needs to go, and it takes a bit for him to figure out the  _ approximate _ right area, the layout at night throwing him off.

"Uh," Jason says when they've stopped. "There should be a small village, about three quarters up...?" Clark's head sweeps the area, and when he comes in, it's much slower, letting Jason pick out landmarks. 

"You're keeping an ear out for them, right?"

"I'm listening in," Clark confirms. "I don't think she's going to try anything though."

Jason chalks it up to simple intuition as he continues to scan the area.

"How are the boys?"

Clark gives him a  _ look. _

"We can talk about that sort of thing when we get back. Do you actually know where you're going...?"

"It's basically a hidden village," Jason admits. "So... sort of?"

They do end up finding it, even if it takes far longer than he'd like, and Jason directs Clark to set down around back, out of sight of the villagers. It's quiet, and there's not much activity, a fact which Jason largely chalks up to the village's secrecy. He pulls out his blackmail, jogging around to the front, and knocks once.

Maria answers the door, looking absolutely  _ mystified. _

_ "Jason?"  _ She says, continuing in Spanish.  _ "How did you get back here?" _

"Easier not to explain," he says. "Sorry about this. Is your husband home...?"

He suddenly feels  _ very _ domestic, as if he's in an afterschool special and just ran over to a friend's house, rather than delivering secret info to what amounts to a terrorist warlord. Maria glances over his shoulder, and it occurs to Jason he could have just asked Clark.

But in the end it doesn't matter, and he holds out the papers for her to take.

"I need to go," he says, "but could you make sure he gets these? I'm sure he'll know what to do with them."

She stares down at them, but does end up taking the stack, tucking it under her arm.

_ "I will be sure he gets them,"  _ she says, glancing over her shoulder again.  _ "Did you want to come in...?" _

"I really can't," Jason says. "I have people waiting. But thank you for having me the other day. It was... very nice."

_ "Of course,"  _ she says.  _ "You're always welcome here. But I will let him know you called." _

"Thanks," Jason says quickly, and then gives a quick nod before darting off. She leans out after him, watching him vanish around the back of the house, and Clark's already waiting.

"Let's go," he says.

He just hopes everything's going as well with Joey as it went for him.


	27. Chapter 27

The hostel is quiet when they return, but they're not alone, either. Joey's sitting out on the front porch, his head in his hands, and Jason hits the ground running, anxiety spiking. Even if Wintergreen was there, he shouldn't have left him. Even if Rose has mellowed out, that doesn't mean she wouldn't hurt him. Even if she doesn't hate Slade anymore, that doesn't mean she's  _ okay _ with them...

Joey looks up, and Jason readjusts his theories. His eyes are puffy and red, but he doesn't look injured, and Jason realizes that it's a different kind of injury as he slows to a stop. Clark hangs back, and Jason can only hope he knows what's going on inside the house.

"Joey?" Jason asks. "You..." There's no point in asking if he's alright, he realizes. The answer is clear enough. "Things didn't go well?"

_ Things went fine, _ Joey signs, each gesture slower and clumsier than Jason's used to.  _ But she's not my Rose. _

Jason decides that standing is a bad idea, and instead settles down beside Joey, shoulder to shoulder. It's hard—maybe even impossible—for him to really understand what Joey's going through. From what little he's said, it's clear that the issue isn't just one of  _ Rose was mean. _ This is something else. This is something fresher, more raw.

"Do you..." Jason says carefully. "Do you want to talk about it?"

This feels like uncertain ground for him. Joey's reached out to him, but reaching out to Joey feels so much harder. Joey's the one who has things together. Joey's the confident one.

_ I guess it didn't feel real before I met her, _ Joey signs.  _ She wasn't good for me in a lot of ways. We had a pretty screwed up relationship. But she was still my sister, and the person inside isn't her. _

Joey wants her to be: that much is obvious. He wants this Rose to be  _ his _ Rose so that he doesn't have to really give something up.

But she's not, and she won't ever be.

"I'm sorry," Jason says quietly. "I shouldn't have left you alone."

_ I'd have asked you to leave anyway, _ Joey signs.  _ Like I did for Wintergreen. I wanted to talk to her alone. But it didn't matter in the end. _

He seems so small, shrinking in on himself, and Jason leans against him a bit harder, trying to provide support the way Slade always does for him. A physical reminder that someone's  _ there.  _ The more he thinks about it, the more pressing it becomes. Joey's missed therapy, not just him.

But more than anything, it's the solitude that must weigh on him. Joey doesn't have  _ anyone _ he can rely solely on. Jason has Slade and Bruce who he knows will drop everything to make sure he's alright, but Joey?

Joey doesn't.

He has, in the end, nothing and no one. He's left his family behind in his old world. He's left his friends and family. Joey's decision to reject being Slade's  _ family _ seems almost incomprehensible to him now, because at least it would have given him an option. At least it would have given him  _ something. _

_ Sorry, _ Joey signs.  _ How did things go? _

Jason is very firmly of the opinion that the blackmail didn't matter, but he doubts Joey's interested in that answer.

"Fine," he says. "We got it all done. It's all... sorted out and not an issue anymore. We can go back to the resort anytime you want, and then... we're done."

Then they'll go home.

_ Sorry, _ Joey signs again, and Jason shakes his head.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," he says. He wishes Slade were there. Slade would be better at this. He'd know what it is he should be doing.

_ I do, _ Joey signs.  _ Things went really well, and I was in a good mood. It was happy that you trusted me with the mission. I was excited to finally talk to Rose. I'd wanted to ask about her, but I didn't want to upset anyone. _

"You can always ask," Jason says. "Always. Alright? Anything."

He means it. He'd rather feel absolutely miserable because Joey asked him something painful then watch Joey sit there, looking miserable himself, his face streaked with tears.

Joey seems to be aware of the fact that Jason's looking at him, and reaches up, wiping at his face with the back of his sleeve.

_ We should go, _ Joey signs.  _ We're going to have a hard time catching a cab. _

"Superman," Jason calls quietly, and Clark emerges from the shadows. He doesn't do it nearly as effectively as Bruce does, but at the very least he sticks out a bit less than he would otherwise. "Are they done in there?"

"More or less," Clark says. "You ready to go...?"

Jason nods.

"I'll grab Wintergreen, and then we can take a cab-"

"Jason, please," Clark says. "I'll just fly you. It'll be a lot faster."

Jason glances to Joey, and then pushes himself to his feet. Joey does the same, and Jason ducks inside, expecting Joey to follow to say goodbye. He doesn't.

"Rose," he says, and when he turns the corner to the little kitchen she's already looking towards him. Wintergreen looks mildly surprised, glancing over towards him.

"Ah," he says, "ready to go?"

"Yeah," Jason says. "Superman's going to fly us."

His eyes slide over to Rose. She looks... fine. Nothing like Joey, sitting outside with his face streaked with tears. He tries not to hold it against her. She doesn't know him. They've never met. But it's hard.

"I'll write you," he says. "When I get back. I know you didn't answer before, but... it would be nice if you did."

She stares at him without nodding, and Jason sighs and turns away. Wintergreen follows him out, and they meet Clark on the porch.

In the end, Clark flies Jason and all the purchases they made in one go, and Joey and Wintergreen in another. It's awkward, but better than trying to catch a cab so late at night. He drops them not far from the resort entrance, letting them walk in as if a car dropped them off just up the street, and Joey looks more or less himself again by the time they enter their resort, having said their goodbyes to Clark.

_ Sorry for ruining the last night, _ Joey signs, and Jason immediately waves him off.

"No," he says. "This was... There were fun moments and serious moments, but you didn't ruin anything. This trip was... it was fun."

Because it was. Even with the bad moments. Even with the terrifying moments. There was still more good than bad, and Jason isn't upset. Joey looks away, and Jason can't read his expression.

"I think it might be good to get to bed early," Wintergreen says. "We have an early flight tomorrow, and I'd like to get breakfast before we leave the resort. Jason, you may wish to call your fathers and let them know what's happened before our friend does."

Jason cringes. He is  _ not _ looking forward to that.

"Alright," he says.

He makes a point of dropping Wintergreen's things off in his room before heading back to his own. Joey's already in his own room by the time he's done, and Jason weighs the pros and cons of knocking on his door before deciding to give him space. He hauls his suitcase out, starting to pack, and tucks the phone between his shoulder and head as he calls Slade.

"I cannot  _ wait _ to hear this," Slade says as a greeting.

"I don't know why I'm bothering," Jason says. "Clark can tell you all about it."

"I want to hear what  _ you _ were thinking," Slade says. "So you might as well go from the start."

Jason sighs, folding his clothes as he packs everything up. It's like playing the world's most infuriating game of tetris, trying to fit all of his purchases into his bags, but he makes progress as he explains.

"We headed to the capital to sightsee, and so that Wintergreen could get a book. Things went pretty well, we bought some stuff, and then we went for dinner in a place recommended by some locals."

"Did you make contact with Bane?"

"No," Jason says. "This was an entirely legitimate shopping trip."

In the background, Jason can hear Bruce grunt, and he's sure that he's listening in.

"Aaaanyway," Jason says, "we were eating dinner, and then Joey point out that Rose was sitting a few tables away. She hadn't noticed us, and was sitting with three others. Captain Cold, El Diablo, and Copperhead were with her. She went by Ravager, just for the record.

"It wasn't hard to figure out that Waller had sent Task Force X out for something, and I wasn't going to just let people get killed, so we contacted you to send Clark out, and then approached them."

"You didn't approach until Clark arrived?"

"I did not approach until Clark arrived," Jason says, as if he's swearing an oath.

Slade doesn't respond, and Jason wonders if they're signing to each other to avoid Jason overhearing.

"So we approached them and asked them what they were doing. Apparently a politician in Santa Prisca had gotten his hands on some evidence that the same splinter of the government who were involved with the Court were actually also involved in... either the development of venom, or were at least interested in buying some. Waller wanted them to get that evidence back, and destroy it if they couldn't. I decided that neither option was good, I didn't want Waller having it, but we couldn't just have Clark fly them out without causing a scene. So instead, we infiltrated-"

"Explain," Slade says. "Don't just cheat around it by saying  _ we infiltrated _ like this is a video game."

"Wintergreen took Captain Cold's gun and approached the politician as he was leaving his office, where the information was being kept. Joey hijacked the politicians body, took the disguised gun from Wintergreen, and then headed into the office. He opened the safe with the gun, retrieved the documents, and then left without raising the alarm, handing it back off to Wintergreen."

"What's the politician going to remember?"

"Considering the timeline? Not much. He'll remember coming out of his office, and then he'll remember getting into his car, and if he really tries he might get confused as to what happened between those points. Some of his guards might recognize Wintergreen, but  _ old British man with a mustache _ isn't particularly defining, and it was a large plaza that's not going to have any high quality security cameras, if it has any at all."

"What then?" Bruce asks.

"We cleared the scene and Waller contacted them to get a report. I told her that I was taking the evidence, and that she was going to make sure that her whole team made it safely back home. She told me I didn't have the authority, at which point Clark hopped onto the call to tell her that I might not have, but he certainly did. She folded after that, and Clark's... probably going to bring it up at a League meeting."

"Most likely," Slade agrees. "He already sent a message to that effect."

"Evidence?" Bruce asks.

"I asked Clark for help because... he's a journalist and knows this stuff a lot better. He sorted it into three piles: standard blackmail that wasn't going to hurt anyone, blackmail related to American's involvement, and then corruption related blackmail. Evidence of people taking bribes, shady business dealings, things like that."

"Let me guess: You destroyed the first, Clark took the second, and you took the third... to Bane?" Slade says. He sounds amused, and moments after he finishes there's a light  _ ow _ as if Bruce has smacked him in the side for it.

"Yes," Jason says. "I asked Clark for his advice, and we talked it out and decided Bane would have the best resources for exposing that kind of corruption, so I gave it to him."

"And you're all back at the resort now?" Slade asks.

"I'm just packing up," Jason says. "We leave pretty early, so we won't have time for much. Going to grab breakfast, and then head to the airport."

"Well," Slade says as if he's carefully picking his words, "your father is of the opinion that you should never be allowed to go on a vacation without us again, but  _ I'm  _ proud of how you handled things. You found a non-violent solution, stuck to your principles, and deferred to expert help as necessary."

If Jason had any anxiety about how the trip had gone before, hearing that from Slade puts it to rest, and he has to stop to furiously wipe at his eyes.

"Thanks," he says. "It'll be good to be back home soon."

"Your father wants me to tell you that if your plane gets hijacked tomorrow, he's going to have Clark bundle you up in a blanket and carry you straight home."

Jason laughs at the idea, grinning to himself even as he responds.

"Don't worry," he says. "If it get hijacked, they won't know what hit 'em."

He says his goodnights, making sure things are packed up before he heads to bed. He's almost giddy as he curls up in bed, burying himself in the blankets and slipping off to sleep.


	28. Chapter 28

Jason's in a good mood when he wakes the following morning. His things are already packed, so he speeds through a shower, grabbing his suitcase and heading down to the restaurant. Joey's already there, looking like his usual chipper self, and they discuss the flight home as they wait for Wintergreen to arrive.

Jason's ready to be home. He's ready to see his family again. Of all of them, he misses Damian the most, and a part of him regrets not calling him while he was gone. It's only been a few days, and Damian was almost definitely busy with Jon and the clones, but the guilt drives him to buy Damian a small carving of a sea turtle before they head to the airport, packing it away in his bag.

He's pretty sure he's carrying an extra twenty pounds, and when they check their luggage Jason only  _ just _ makes it under the weight limit.

_ Are you going to pass out again?  _ Joey asks as they wait to board.

"Probably," Jason admits. "Something about being on a plane just knocks me right out."

"A good problem to have," Wintergreen says. "What I wouldn't do to be able to just sleep through these damned things. Commercial flights are the bane of my existence."

Jason's out cold before they've even hit cruising altitude, sleeps right through lunch, and only wakes when they touch down on the other end. Embarrassingly, he wakes to find himself practically drooling on Joey's shoulder, having slumped over sometime during the flight.

"Sorry!" Jason blurts, dragging himself upright, but Joey's quick to wave it off.

_ Only happened when we banked right at the end, _ he signs.  _ It's fine. I didn't want to wake you. _

All the reassurances in the world don't stop the embarrassment, and Jason busies himself by grabbing their bags to keep from having to look at Joey until the blush has gone down.

They haven't even made it to baggage claim when they spot their welcoming party. Slade  _ and _ Bruce are there, and there's no dodging the absolutely  _ crushing _ hug he gets from both once he's in range.

"Missed you," Bruce says.

"It wasn't even a whole week," Jason points out. "And I'm fine. No injuries, not a scratch on me."

"Not for lack of trying," Slade says with a grin, breaking the hug to go grab their luggage.

Bruce and Slade give Joey and Wintergreen their own  _ welcome back's, _ and it occurs to Jason that Wintergreen's effectively slid into their family dynamic entirely by accident. He feels a lot like the uncle they never had, or maybe a bonus grandparent.

Great-uncle, Jason decides on the ride home.

The paparazzi have cleared out, leaving the entranceway clear, and Jason breathes a sigh of relief at the realization. Damian's there to greet him when they've parked, zooming across the driveway for a flying tackle that Jason's prepared to intercept.

"How's my favorite little assassin?" Jason says with a grin, spinning him around before dropping him back on the ground.

Bruce lets out a groan behind him, which Jason chalks up to being a response to the nickname. 

"I hear you got into trouble," Damian says. "Several times."

"Master Jason," Alfred calls from the door. "It is good to see you all back safely."

"Wasn't any real danger," Jason says. "We had things under control. Turns out Joey and Wintergreen are great in a pinch."

"I hardly did anything at all," Wintergreen says. "Just a quick bit of improvisation."

_ Don't sell yourself short, _ Joey signs.  _ We couldn't have managed it without you. _

"Can we tell him?" Damian blurts, looking over at Slade and Bruce, and the only thing that keeps Jason's stomach from plummeting is that Damian looks  _ deeply _ excited. Even so...

"Tell me  _ what?" _ Jason asks, squinting towards his parents.

"Inside," Slade says, gesturing for them to head in the door. "And then yes, we can tell him."

Fantastic. That means they kept something from him, probably to avoid  _ spoiling his vacation. _ Just what he needs getting dropped on his lap the moment he gets home.

Alfred collects the baggage, taking it to the appropriate rooms, and everyone files into the living room to sit.

"Who's hurt?"

"No one's hurt," Slade says. "We expressed an interest in taking the younger Cain in, so things were getting ready for that. Unfortunately, as a result we had child services stop by to investigate... concerns about Damian a few days ago."

A few  _ days? _ And they didn't tell him?

"He-"

"He's fine," Slade says. "He's not going anywhere."

He reaches down to ruffle Damian's hair.

"Apparently, people were concerned I was going to be  _ grievously injured _ while operating as Shrike," Damian says. "Which could be construed as a type of child endangerment, apparently."

"They interviewed Damian on his own, and Damian told them all about the League of Assassins and his childhood, so now he's staying here and we've been cleared, but it was a very stressful two hours."

"Wait,  _ when _ was this?" Jason asks, his suspicions rising.

"Monday," Slade confirms. "The same day I called you in the morning. I didn't want you hearing from someone else, but when you slept through it we decided to tell you when-"

"Excuse me," Alfred says, popping his head around the corner. "But I believe this is important enough to necessitate an interruption in this already important conversation."

Everyone in the room turns to look at Alfred, and Jason's pretty sure they're all thinking the same thing: what could possibly be important enough to require Alfred to interrupt a conversation about  _ child services interviewing Damian? _

"There is a box," Alfred says, and when that doesn't immediately clarify things, he continues. "While taking Mister Wilson's suit down to the cave, I discovered a small box sitting on the floor in the very center of the cave. It do not recognize it, and as far as I am aware, I was the last person to go downstairs early yesterday morning."

Alright. That's pretty weird.

"Damian?" Bruce asks, turning to his youngest.

"I haven't been in for several days," Damian says. "Not since step-father and I sparred."

"Hold on," Slade says. "I'm checking security."

They huddle around the security panel as Slade pulls up the cave, and it's exactly as Alfred said it was: a completely ordinary box sitting right in the middle of the cave where anyone could trip over it. Slade skips back through the camera footage hour by hour, and once he's narrowed it down starts to work through it slower.

At 8:51 PM the night before, the cave is empty.

Thirty seconds later, the scene gets so bright it whites out the security camera, and when it fades, the box is there.

"Alternate dimension?" Bruce says.

"That would be my guess, yes," Alfred confirms. "Should I collect the box?"

"No," Slade says. "Could still be a trap. I'll investigate. Everyone else stay up here."

They huddle around watching the security camera as Slade investigates. He's careful (more careful than he probably needs to be, considering the source), but ten minutes later he waves them down, and there's a mad scramble to get downstairs as fast as possible.

"Portable hard drive," Slade says when they reach the cave floor. "And the same box that teleported us before."

"Do we want to get Tim and Dick...?"

"They both have work," Bruce says. "But they'll also both be here tonight. We were going to have a surprise welcome back party."

"Well I'm not waiting," Jason says. "Pop it in."

"We could wait-" Slade starts.

"Nope, not waiting," Jason says. "I want to know what's on it."

If they try and make him wait he's liable to chew off his own goddamn arm in anticipation.

Slade doesn't argue, plugging the drive in, and they find a stack of video files. Most of them have names—Jason spots two labelled FOR JASON, and three labelled FOR JOEY—but one right at the bottom is labelled WATCH THIS FIRST, which makes it clear enough where they're supposed to start.

Everyone gathers around as Slade pulls up the video.

It's Tim. The Tim that Jason's having a hard time not thinking of as  _ tiny Tim, _ because he looks so  _ small _ compared to the Tim he knows. Young. He's practically a goddamn  _ baby, _ but there's nothing childish about his expression as he leans closer to the camera, adjusting it before starting to speak.

"Everyone else is talking about their own stuff," Tim says, "which means it falls to me to explain... this. To keep it short, we looked into the box because we wanted to make sure it wasn't going to accidentally swap anyone in the future. The whole thing is highly unstable, and disabling it proved... harder than we expected. In the end, we sort of worked out an alternative. It's been tuned down so that it's area of effect is a lot smaller, more like the size of a bread box rather than large enough to fit several people. It also has a delay. If you activate it, you've got like thirty seconds to get clear before it swaps back to our dimension. As long as it regularly goes back and forth, it shouldn't ever build up and accidentally abduct someone, so that's good."

"No kidding," Slade mutters under his breath, his attention firmly on the video.

"So I think the plan is basically for us to keep swapping it back and forth, maybe every two weeks, or every month. That'll keep it from causing trouble, and as a nice plus it means we can be like... Cross-dimensional pen-pals with each other.

"Or at least for now," Tim adds. "Something weird is going on about the barrier between universes, and until we get that fixed, it's going to keep happening. In theory, when we fix it, we'll stop being able to just send this thing slingshotting back and forth, but... Well, that's for us to figure out. Until then, pen-pals."

He makes a show of trying to look cheerful, shooting the camera a thumbs up, and Jason feels his stomach sink. Tim obviously doesn't want to talk about whatever he's going to say next, and there's really only one thing it could be.

"So. What happened after you guys went back home... Well, I'm sure you can figure out what happened with Thomas and Joey. We're all really hoping that they're okay, but apparently you had Superman standing by, so that shouldn't be an issue. Your versions... came out on our side. We considered trying to send them back, but we didn't want to mess things up, so in the end we gave them a good burial over here. Tombstones and everything. But..."

Tim winces, and it's so,  _ so _ obvious that he doesn't want to talk.

"No one else is going to tell you, so I guess I have to. So, when Deathstroke and Batman came through on our side, it was a bit of a mess. Really, a lot of a mess. Superman showed up to help, and we did end up restraining him. Superman took him and Rose, and they left to put him in prison or something like that. Honestly, I wasn't super focused on that. The stuff with Bruce, was..."

Jason glances over to  _ his _ Bruce, and finds him looking away. He doesn't want to hear. None of them want to hear, but they  _ have _ to hear.

"It was a mess," Tim continues. "Bruce got angry Jason was there and said we were out of line, and then Kate yelled at him that he'd been out of line for years and we'd all just been too cowardly to do anything about it, they started arguing with each other, and then Bruce tried to punch her. The moment he took that swing at her, that basically ruined any chance we had of sitting down and talking it out. There was this whole big brawl and everyone got slugged by everyone else and then Alfred—and honestly if you're thinking this sounds surreal listening to it, imagine how I felt watching it—Alfred yelled at the top of his lungs for everyone to stop, and everyone kind of stopped because we all like Alfred, and then Alfred just tore a  _ strip _ off Bruce. Told him that he... that he couldn't believe what he'd become. Couldn't believe that he'd let this happen to his family. And then he-"

Tim pauses, leaning closer, his voice dropping.

"-he kicked Bruce out of the house."

There's a pause, as if expecting them to react in some way, but Jason's too stunned to think, let alone  _ speak. _

"So that's what happened," Tim says. "Honestly, I think we all kind of expected Bruce to fight it, but he sort of just stormed out. He hasn't been back since then, and I don't think any of us have seen him. I'm not sure what the League's been doing, but Batman's basically been out of sight. I ended up moving back into the manor, but right now it's just me and Alfred, which is... a whole thing. He's really broken up about it."

Jason can imagine, and he's apparently not the only one, because when he reaches over to wrap his arm around Alfred, who's standing beside him, his arm bumps into Slade who's doing the same thing.

"So that's what you need to know," Tim says. "Everyone else can update...  _ themselves _ on how things are going for them and all that, and I've got some videos for Joey too. But... hopefully everything's going well for you, and hopefully we hear back from you sometime soon."

Tim leans forward and stops the video, leaving them gathered in the silence of the cave.


	29. Chapter 29

It takes almost a full minute before Jason makes himself speak.

"Wow," he says. "Go Alfred."

"No kidding," Slade says. "Not exactly what i wanted to hear from the other dimension, but better than it could have gone in a lot of ways."

"I hate him," Damian mumbles quietly, and no one asks which  _ him _ they're talking about.

"We're going to do it, right?" Jason asks. "Make videos?"

_ I don't see why not,  _ Bruce signs.  _ I know I'm not their Bruce, but I hope knowing that at least one Bruce cares about them will help things. _

"It's probably a good thing that the device will not allow people to travel back and forth," Wintergreen says, his voice dry. "I can only imagine what the two of you would do, knowing what you do now."

Slade mutters something that sounds suspiciously like  _ they'd never find the bodies, _ and Bruce shoots him a dirty look.

"We've got a whole stack of videos," Slade says, leaning forward to check the screen as he clears away the one they just watched. "Most of us have one or two, and Joey's the lucky guy with three. Do we want to just watch them now...?"

Jason sure wants to, but for the moment at least, something else is more pressing.

"Hold on," he says. "Can we go back to the child services thing?"

Slade blinks at him like he has no idea what he's talking about, and then the realization dawns on him.

"Oh right," he says. "Yeah, stressful two hours. They interviewed all of us individually, and then we had to give them a tour. Showed them the cave, which was kinda stressful. Demonstrated that everything's kept safely locked up. I think they were more prepared for 'your guns aren't stored safely' then 'your batarangs need a secure case over them'."

"They were quite professional about it," Alfred says, "which we all appreciated. They had a number of suggestions and requirements for us, the majority of which we've already handled, but they did seem a bit... out of their depth."

Jason can only imagine.

"They'll be stopping by for a followup check sometime this week," Alfred adds. "After which Miss Cain will likely be turned over to our care on a trial basis."

"Should I be prepared to get interviewed?" Jason asks.

"Probably all three of you," Slade says. "And probably Bruce again."

"Again?"

_ They didn't have anyone who knew ASL, _ Bruce signs.  _ I had to write up my answers, but it was taking forever so they just did the important ones. They were going to have to come back for you and Joey, so they put it off. _

"Okay," Jason says. "That's something to look out for."

"Oh," Damian says, glancing up at Jason. "Father did not tell you about Jon's brothers, did he?"

"He didn't tell me squat," Jason says, giving Bruce a dirty look. "What's up?"

"They're Luthor's," Slade says. "Testing came through, and word is he's looking at a plea deal."

_ Please tell me they're not letting him out,  _ Joey signs.

"Doubtful," Slade says. "The deal will be more for making sure he's comfortable in prison."

_ Good,  _ Joey signs.  _ In my world he always got off on technicalities. _

"In this case, there's not really a technicality to be had. The boys have his DNA in them. You can't exactly slip and  _ accidentally make five clones." _

"If he tries to argue that, you had better film it," Jason says with a snort.

"I want to see my video," Damian says. "Can we watch them?"

_ You should probably wait for Dick and Tim, _ Bruce signs.  _ But if you want to- _

"I want to."

"Alright," Slade says, turning away as he grabs a stack of USB sticks, starting to pull files off. "Everyone can have their own, we can all watch them in private, and if anything needs sharing, we can share them."

Damian's the first to grab his, darting off. Alfred and Wintergreen get theirs next, and Slade hands Jason and Joeys there's just after. Jason stares down at the stick, trying not to feel nervous, and barely notices when Bruce and Slade drift out together.

Joey stays behind, and Jason startles when he touches his shoulder, turning to him.

_ Did you want to watch mine with me? _ Joey signs.

For a moment, Jason wonders if it's Joey trying to offer emotional support, and then realizes that it's the opposite. Joey has three videos, and Jason would bet every dollar he has that one's from Rose, one's from Deathstroke, and one's from Adeline.

Joey just doesn't want to be left alone with videos of the people he left behind. He doesn't want to hear his mother sobbing. Doesn't want to face their disapproval.

"Sure," Jason says. "We can just watch it down here."

He drags another chair over to the computer, lamenting the lack of a clear order. There are three videos, but none of them are labelled. In the end, he simply goes with the first one, queueing it up before looking to Joey for the decision.

_ Start it,  _ he signs, and Jason hits play, leaning back into his seat.

It's Rose, which is good. Rose is a nice, safe place to start. She looks miles apart from the Rose he knows, with only the shape of her face and the color of her hair really showing much similarity. This Rose is much younger, and she looks to be in an apartment, her legs curled up to her chest as she looks into the camera.

"They said I could pass a video on to you, but wouldn't explain how it worked, so... he's hoping it gets through," she says. "I don't know what they've told you, but apparently you'll have other videos too. Maybe... maybe skip the one from your mom. I can't imagine it'll be anything good. Things have been not so great since you left. Basically, when you—the other you—landed, none of us realized what had happened right away. We were all kind of focused on subduing dad, because he was  _ pissed. _ We overwhelmed him and got him sedated, and that was around when I realized what the bonus were. Everyone was.. .was really helpful about that. Making sure they all got collected and buried. Not going to pretend like it didn't screw me up for a bit, because it kind of did, but I just reminded myself that it wasn't really  _ you.  _ Just someone who might have been you."

Jason glances over to check on Joey and finds him staring at the screen, his attention almost entirely single minded as he watches his sister speak.

"So... I went with dad. They put him in lockup the way I figured they would. Then we told him about you. I was kind of expecting him to be... sad, or upset or something. Instead he just totally shut down. Like... completely unresponsive. It was actually kind of scary. Wintergreen said it was almost the same way he was after Grant died. I went to stay with a friend that night, and overnight... gone."

She snaps her fingers to emphasize the point.

"I mean, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that he broke out, because that's what dad  _ does, _ but it was still pretty surprising. He just vanished, and even Wintergreen didn't know where he was. Annnnd then one of the Bats found out that someone had dug up the grave they made for that universe's Joey, so it wasn't exactly hard to figure out who."

That's new information, and Jason glances to Joey again, expecting... something. He's leaned forward slightly, fingers steepled, but he doesn't look particularly bothered by the idea. Jason guesses it's more of a  _ him _ thing.

He wonders where Deathstroke put it. Him. He guesses that he should think of the bones as a  _ him, _ the last remaining proof that the brother he never got to meet existed.

"And then... I guess this is the part where I'm really trusting what Jason said about them not watching these videos, because dad showed up. I mean, like he always did, he broke into my apartment to watch me sleep because that's what he  _ does, _ but he was still there in the morning, and in his very... uh,  _ dad _ way he sort of admitted he was worried I was going to run off too. He's been kind of stalking me, I guess? But again, in the dad way. I haven't even told Wintergreen yet, although I figure I probably should. Right now I'm kind of just processing it, because it only happened like... two days before I recorded this?"

She shifts awkwardly, and then lets out a sigh.

"I miss you," she says, "but I can't blame you for going. Not with everything that happened. I just really hope things work out for you. And I hope you get a chance to... to send a message back. I won't blame you if you don't, but I hope you do."

She pauses for a moment, then leans forward.

"Love you," she says, and the video ends.

Jason looks to Joey, but Joey's already gesturing  _ next, _ so Jason forges on. He thinks they should probably stop. He thinks they should talk about what they just heard. Joey's videos are always going to be more personal than everyone else's, because these are people he  _ knows.  _ These are his family.

He glances for confirmation, and then starts the second video.

He knows immediately they aren't going to play the whole thing. Knows that he's going to stop things before it gets too far. Adeline's video is next, her face streaked with tears as she stares at the camera. She looks like she's been crying. She looks like she's been bawling her eyes out for the whole three weeks Joey's been gone.

"How could you do this to me-" She says, and Jason slaps the spacebar, freezing the video.

"Let's not watch that one," he says. "I don't think... I don't think it would be good to watch something that negative right now. You can always come back to it later... or wait for her to cool off."

Or never watch it at all. He can't blame Adeline for being upset that her son left her, but even just the way she started reeks to him of manipulation. It ignores that Joey had some  _ very _ fucking good reasons for leaving. It acts like the only reason he left was to hurt her, which couldn't be farther from the truth. It's excruciatingly obvious to Jason how much it hurt Joey to leave, and it kills him that she apparently can't see that.

"Joey-" He says, turning back to him, and finds Joey's eyes downcast, his jaw clenched.

He doesn't know what to say right then. What can he say? What could possibly make up for it?

"I know a lot of people are going to tell you that you made a mistake coming here," Jason says. "But... I'm happy you're here. I'm happy you get a chance to be away from them."

Joey won't look at him, but he signs a response anyway.

_ Next video, _ he signs, and Jason sighs and turns away. Last one. One more and then he can... he doesn't even know. Distract Joey from this? He doesn't know what comes after.

He puts on the next video, and feels like someone punched him in the gut when it isn't Slade. It's Wintergreen, looking as together and dignified as the one currently upstairs, and Jason hates himself for thinking it'd be anyone else. Of course it would be Wintergreen. Of course Slade—who is literally a wanted man on the run who seems to be stalking Rose—wouldn't have a video.

He doesn't dare look at Joey. He can't risk seeing the look of disappointment if Joey was thinking the same thing he was. Instead, he focuses on the screen, refusing to look at anything else.

"Joseph," Wintergreen says. "Hopefully this video finds you safe and well. Hopefully it comes accompanied with other videos, who have provided more details on what has been happening since your departure. I feel like I have less to say to you, so I'll keep it short."

He shifts in his seat, leaning forward towards the camera.

"You were right to go," he says. "I've been telling your father since you were a child that if he continued the way he was, that one day he would lose everything he cared for. I told him time and time again that what he was doing was hurting you boys, and when Rose came into our lives, his actions began to hurt her too. I had hopes that your brother's death would change him, but it would appear I was too full of hope. In the end, you did the best thing you could for yourself: you left."

Jason feels a flood of relief. This is good. It's what Joey needs to hear. Not people blaming him for leaving, but people recognizing that it was the only way.

"I hope that Slade's counterpart is treating you kindly. I hope even that you find friendship in a retired old man who reminds you of your uncle. But more than anything, I hope you find happiness there which you were so long denied here."

He leans forward to mess with the camera, and the video ends.

Joey is crying. Even without turning his head, Jason can hear it. It's not the soft sobs of anyone else, just the quiet gasps for air that he's come to associate with Joey's crying. He hesitates, torn between trying to give Joey space or comfort, but in the end the latter wins out.

He turns to him, stepping away from the computer, and reaches down to pull Joey against him, wrapping him in a hug. He tries to put himself in Slade's mindset, to see things the way Slade does. Joey buries his face against Jason's chest as he bends down, wrapping his arms around Joey to tighten the hug. He doesn't know what to say, so instead he says nothing, letting him cry until he can't any more.


	30. Chapter 30

It takes maybe ten minutes for Joey to collect himself and pull away, breaking the hug. The moment he does, Jason releases him, trying not to be overbearing. He looks a bit better as he wipes at his face, and Jason struggles to figure out what to do next. How does he handle this? How does he make Joey feel... what, less crap?

He tries the only thing that feels topical.

"Did you want to watch mine?"

He feels like that's a safer bet than anything else he can think of. Joey knows the people in his video, but they're not directly connected to him in the way Wintergreen or Rose are. He also feels like Joey will appreciate that it's his attempt to open up, and Joey does seem to do that, nodding his head as he wipes at his eyes.

_ If that isn't too private, _ he signs.

"I mean, not like you're going to hold it against them if they say anything weird," he says. "I figure one's from the other me, and I've got no idea who the second one is from."

_ One of your brothers? _ Joey signs, and Jason shrugs.

"Considering the relationship they have with him, they'd be better served just... you know, talking to  _ him. _ I'd be kind of disappointed if they apologized to me rather than their real brother."

_ Fair enough, _ Joey signs, and Jason turns away, queueing up his first video. Even before it starts to play he can see that this one is Jason. A younger Jason, but in a lot of ways a much harder person. The video's shot in something that looks like a living room, a place with wide open space and a lot of light, and Jason glances to Joey for a reaction before he starts it.

_ Wow, _ Joey signs.  _ Is it weird to say he looks a lot like you? _

"I'd be confused if he didn't," Jason says with a laugh, starting the video.

"So, here's the-" Jason starts, only to abruptly turn away, looking at something offscreen.

"Shut the hell up, I'm busy!" He yells, and there's a chorus of  _ sorries  _ from just off screen as Jason turns back to the camera.

"Sorry about that," he says. "Dickhead's got me on babysitting duty, so I barely get any privacy these days. Don't know if you can hear them, but they're loud as hell. So... not sure how things went for you but I'm going to just assume everything went great and work from there. Things went pretty damn well with B, not sure if you heard. He took a swing at K and everyone went fucking crazy, and then Al absolutely laid down the law. Kicked him out of his own house! I tried to get T to give me the security tape and he said it would be  _ inappropriate  _ or some shit like that."

Jason kicks back on the couch, looking very much like he's making plans to get the tape for himself.

"So, what else... uh, I ended up tag teaming with D to babysit the Teen Titans. They were an absolute mess when we got here, but we've been whipping them into shape. I went out and re-recruited Red Arrow, convinced them there was still a point to the team... I'd say they're going pretty well. Me'n D have complete opposite teaching styles, so some of the kids do better with him, and some do better than me. I'm getting along pretty well with Crush and Arrow, and he's got Djinn and Roundhouse working with him. Robin's insisting he doesn't need training from either of us but ends up getting advice from both whether he likes it or not."

He seems to lose focus, turning his head away as if listening, and then glances back to the camera.

"Honestly, without knowing how things are going for you, not really sure what else to say. Not to sound like a teenage girl leaving a message on a friend's answering machine, but send a message back if you can."

He leans forward, and the video ends.

"...That wasn't so bad," Jason says, glancing back to Joey. "Sounds like he's doing well."

_ Sounds like Jason, _ Joey agrees.  _ He's always seemed like he'd be good with kids if anyone would give him a chance. _

"God, I wouldn't," Jason admits. "I always dreaded the day Bruce stuck me with someone of my own to train."

_ You'd do just fine, _ Joey signs.  _ You were a good leader during our little mission in Santa Prisca. _

"Leading a mission isn't the same thing as teaching," Jason counters as he pulls up the second video. "You and Wintergreen already knew what you were doing. I hardly had to do anything. I mean... you pretty much handled the mission yourself."

_ You're selling yourself short, _ Joey signs.  _ You're a great field commander. _

"And you're great at infiltration. Like... absolutely unreal."

_ The powers help. _

"The powers are only a part of it. You still had to bluff your way in, ditch the guards... and pick the best time to swap back."

_ I've had a lot of practice, _ Joey signs.  _ Video? _

Oh right. He turns back to the computer, starting the second video, and he's relieved when he recognizes Alfred. He looks older than the one he knows, but the more he looks the more convinced that it's not age, simply exhaustion. He looks  _ tired, _ and Jason doesn't have to wonder why.

"Jason," he says, "I hope everything finds you well." Jason's pretty sure he recognizes the seat he's sitting on as the one in the library, but the camera's close enough he can't see behind it.

"I was happy for a chance to get to reach out to you, but now I find myself very much at a loss for words. Others will have explained what happened to you, which I am happy for. I don't think I'd be capable of being impartial about it.

"Right now it's just myself and Master Timothy in the house, although I understand most of the others are quite busy with their own lives. It is... quieter than I am used to, but I am adjusting as best I can."

His eyes drift, his focus lost, and then he drags his attention back to the camera.

"I hope that you're safe," he says. "Safe, happy, and healthy. I wish that for all the boys, and your whole family. I know you'll all take good care of each other, but if I could request something selfish, please make sure that your Alfred gets a hug on my behalf. I can only imagine the things he's been through, and his message to me was... a great help in a very dark time."

Jason can't stop himself from rubbing at his eyes as Alfred says his goodbyes, reaching forward to turn the camera off.

It's nice. It's nice, but it still hurts, and he wants nothing more than to rip a hole through reality, kick the other Bruce's ass, and give a hug to  _ that _ Alfred.

He's going to have to settle for hugging his own, though.


	31. Chapter 31

They have good timing with when they choose to head upstairs, having pulled themselves together enough to face everyone else. Jason only  _ just _ catches Damian zipping by, heading for the back door, and he reaches out, catching Damian by the back of his shirt and forcing him to slam to a halt.

"Hold on," he says. "Where are you going?"

"I have to show Jon," Damian says, holding up his tablet to show off what Jason can only assume is his video. There's a boy there who looks a lot like Jon, only significantly older, and it takes Jason an absolutely embarrassingly long time to realize what he's looking at.

"Hold on," he says, "is that Jon?" He knows Slade and Bruce mentioned something about this, but it was such a minor thing that it had slipped his mind until right then.

Damian rapidly bobs his head.

"I need to show him," he says. "His brothers too. I'm sure they'll be interested to know what he looks like when he grows up."

"Listen," Jason says, bending over a bit to be more on Damian's level. "You can show him later, alright? We should all talk this through as a family."

He doubts Damian's videos have had anything particularly traumatizing in them, considering his obvious excitement, but that doesn't mean he can just run off to hang out with Jon.

Damian sulks a bit, but does allow himself to be shown into the living room where people are starting to gather.

Alfred's sitting off to the side, looking upset, and that's more than enough reason for Jason to head right for him, bending down to pull him into a hug. Alfred doesn't protest, or even ask why—instead he simply returns it, hugging Jason back.

"That was from the other Alfred," Jason says with a small smile. "He had very specific instructions."

"I can imagine."

Joey swoops in to steal a hug from Alfred, and when he pulls back, he's grinning.

_ That one was just from me, _ he signs, and Alfred laughs to himself.

Bruce and Slade join them not long after, looking serious.

"So?" Slade says. "How'd that go for everyone?"

"The other Damian told me about his team and his pets," Damian says. "He did not mention his father, which I do not blame him for. Apparently, his Jason and Dick argue all the time, but are operating as his team's leaders together."

_ I got one from Rose, who wished me well and let me know what happened with pop, _ Joey signs.  _ I skipped the one from ma, but Wintergreen was nice. He asked me to see if I could find the Wintergreen in this world. _

He glances to Wintergreen, who smiles at him.

"How smart of him," Wintergreen says. He has no videos to talk about, so Jason hops in to explain his.

"I heard about things from other Jason," he says. "About the team he's running with Dick, but also how things are going with the family. And then... I heard from Alfred. He seems... pretty down."

He's understating it, but things are serious enough.

"Slade?" He prompts.

"Their Rose told me that if I didn't take good care of Joey she'd find a way to punch through realities and come after me," he says with a snort. "Only one video."

He glances to Bruce, looking grave beside him, and Jason clenches his jaw. It's not a good video. Whatever he's seen...

"Bruce?" He says.

_ I had one from Alfred as well, _ Bruce signs.  _ He said he hoped everything was going well for us. _

"Then why are you acting like someone died?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow. It's plain as day to him, and he doubts he's the only one who sees it.

_ Can we wait until Dick and Tim are here? _ Bruce signs.  _ It would be easier if everyone was here. _

"Is anyone injured? Or killed?" Damian asks.

_ No, _ Bruce signs.  _ It's not like that. _

"I think we can wait," Jason says, glancing to the others for confirmation. "How long till they're here?"

The answer is  _ too long.  _ Time seems to drag as they get back to what they were doing before the tapes arrived, with Jason, Wintergreen, and Joey grabbing souvenirs to share with everyone.

Which of course requires Jason to tell the story about his meeting with Bane. He tells them everything to start, but when the point comes where Bane took him to meet his wife and daughter, Jason becomes more cagey. He tells them less, leaving out what he saw. What matters is that Bane opened up to him and shared details about his life, not what those details were.

He suspects that everyone knows he's hiding something, but none of them push, not even when Jason makes sure Alfred gets that sancocho recipe he promised.

Joey tells them about the experience they had diving, including the bit with Arthur (Bruce at least has the decency to look embarrassed about being caught), and then all three of them explain what happened in the capitol. Bruce and Slade know most of it, but Alfred and particularly Damian don't, with Damian demanding every detail for how Joey managed to infiltrate.

"It's a situation we'll have to keep our eye on," Slade says. 

_ I let you out of my sight for less than a week and you got in so much trouble, _ Bruce signs with an exaggerated sigh.

"Mmm," Slade says ominously. "Those in glass houses, Bruce..."

_ I didn't go off with a heavily armed warlord, Slade! _

"Did you forget about France?" Slade asks, and Bruce immediately looks embarrassed enough that Jason  _ knows _ there's a story there.

"What about France?" Damian asks, leaning towards his father as he squints, scrutinizing his reaction.

"Oh, did Bruce  _ forget _ to tell you about what happened on his weekend trip to France a few months ago?" Slade says with mock surprise.

_ They don't need to hear about France, _ Bruce signs desperately, but it's too late. There's blood in the water, and they are  _ absolutely _ going to her about France.

"The last time your father went to France, the conference he was speaking at was taken over by some heavily armed men who were quite intent on taking hostages. Your father ended up dispatching all twenty of them more or less single handedly, rather than just waiting for a proper response."

_ The proper response was you!  _ Bruce protests.  _ If I hadn't done anything, they'd all have ended up dead, because you weren't going to bother with non-violence when someone had a gun to my head. _

Slade doesn't even pretend like he would have.

"You can't lecture Jason about getting into trouble when he did everything exactly the way he should have. None of us would have gotten into the situation he was in and just walked away."

_ I also wouldn't have been smuggling members of a heavily armed militia into Santa Prisca, either, _ Bruce points out.

"It wasn't smuggling," Jason says, feeling a tiny bit defensive. "They have passports and everything. It's good work, protecting a politician who's running on an anti-corruption angle. I was helping them go legit."

Bruce rolls his eyes, and Jason's pretty sure he's not really selling him on the whole idea. He doesn't get a chance either as the security system chirps, alerting them to Tim's arrival, and everyone hops up, heading for the door.

Tim's happy to see him, attempting to lift him (a much harder thing than most people would imagine) before giving up.

"No Jackson?" Damian asks, peeking around to spot Barbara heading up the path.

"Left him with my dad," she says. "I think he's thiiis close to retiring, and I figure Jackson can help seal the deal."

"He's long past that time," Slade says. "But he's been running Gotham PD so long I can't imagine he's happy to go hands off."

"He's not," Barbara says. "How was the trip?"

Jason tells her, giving the two of them a  _ very _ cut down of their adventures. Neither of them seems particularly surprised by any of it, and whatever hard feelings they might have had stop being a concern when Jason hands over their gifts.

"Bribery works every time," Tim says with a grin.

"We have other news," Slade says. "The other universe made contact with us."

"What?!" Tim asks. "When were you going to tell us?"

"Only happened a few hours ago," Jason says. "You guys were already coming, so..."

"They made videos for us," Damian says. "But I suppose we should wait for Dick."

"Pretty sure that's him coming up the road," Slade says, squinting out the window. Jason can't see a damn thing, but Slade turns out to be right, with Dick arriving on the back of his bike. The conversation goes on hold as they wait for him, and when Dick shows up at the door, Damian beats him to it.

"Nice," Dick says. "Welcoming party."

"More like you're late, so everyone was waiting on you."

"Waiting on little 'ol me?" Dick says with a lopsided grin. "I'm flattered."

"The other universe sent videos!" Damian announces. "We already watched ours."

"What?!" Dick says. "Without me?"

"You have your own," Jason says as he pushes Dick inside so that he can close the door. "Bruce and Slade can show you things, but I think we need to start getting dinner ready."

"It would seem so," Alfred says. "Things have taken considerably longer than I expected."

"I'll help!" Damian says, heading for the kitchen, and Joey signs his agreement, heading into the kitchen to help. Jason suspects that Alfred's probably wary of having so many people piling into the kitchen at once, but also happy for the clear affection everyone's showing him.

Everyone's seen a grim reminder of how important Alfred is to the family.


	32. Chapter 32

In the end, Jason doesn't get to help with food. He's only just started when Bruce comes to steal him away, and Jason is forced—for the third time—to summarize his trip, this time to Dick. He's midway through explaining the scuba diving when he catches something being said in the other conversation in the room (between Barbara, Tim, Slade, and Bruce), and twists in his seat to look at them.

"Hold on," he says. "What did I just hear?"

"That would depend on how long you've been listening," Slade says pointedly, and Jason rolls his eyes at him.

"You said something about Barb walking," he says, and Dick perks up at that, leaning over too.

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose and waves for Slade to explain.

"Barbara in the other dimension can walk," Slade says. "She was paralyzed for a while, but had surgery that allowed her to regain full mobility. We were given all the information about that, and Wayne Medical has been looking into it. We were simply putting it on the table as an option if Barbara wants to pursue it."

"Which I do," she says. "I've adjusted, and I get by just fine, but if I have a chance..."

"There are some legal issues involved," Slade says. "But Arthur has also expressed interest. One of his advisors is paralyzed in a similar way, and has offered use of Atlantis's medical facilities if we want to give it a try."

"Atlantis would be the only shot, wouldn't it?" Tim says. "If it's in the US..."

"It would have to go through full legal channels, yes," Slade confirms.

_ The facilities Arthur is offering are state of the art, _ Bruce confirms.  _ It's the best chance of having the surgery within the next decade. _

"Tell him I want it," Barbara says. "If you say it's the best option, then it's the best option. Maybe if it works, it'll convince elsewhere in the world to fast track this kind of surgery."

_ I'll let him know, _ Bruce signs.  _ It's extremely specialized, but I think it has a good chance of allowing you to regain some amount of mobility. _

"Jay," Dick says, drawing his attention back. "Something about sharks?"

"Oh," Jason says, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Sorry. So there we were..."

He gives him the rest of the story, amused by Dick's reactions to their little side mission with Task Force X. He seems even more worried than Bruce and Slade did, and Jason wraps up the whole thing quickly, right as Slade drops a USB stick in Dick's lap.

"Watch it," he instructs, "and then we'll talk about it over dinner."

Dinner is hardly fit for conversation, because every time anything gets mentioned, Barbara dissolves into a fit of laughter over something tiny Tim said. She just  _ cannot _ get over the sharp differences between the two of them, and the fact that the other universe's Barbara felt the same way is a source of endless amusement.

Dick tells them about the team his counterpart is leading, and Tim talks about his counterpart having taken over the manor. From what Tim says, he's effectively helping coordinate all the vigilantes in Gotham in Bruce's absence, and it's that point where Bruce clears his throat to draw everyone's attention.

_ When dinner's over, _ Bruce signs.  _ There's one more video for everyone to watch together. _

It's hard not to speculate. It's hard not to wonder who it's from. Alfred? Only he's already sent Jason an individual video. In the end, Jason's putting his money on it being a group thing from the Justice League, talking about their response. Clark, at the very least, knows what's going on.

Conversation is more muted as they finish dinner, before Bruce guides everyone towards the living room, pulling out his own USB stick and pushing it into the slot. It's a video from Alfred, which throws Jason off, but Bruce grabs the remote, skipping through to the very end.

"-take good care of everyone," Alfred finishes, and then the video seems to glitch out.

"Second video?" Tim guesses.

"Buried in the one Alfred sent," Bruce says, his voice as quiet as ever. He sounds hoarse, and Jason can imagine why.

"Possible, but not likely that Alfred knew about it," Slade says. "More than likely it was done without his knowledge."

The video resolves itself into a  _ new _ video, titled  _ Message for Batman and Allies,  _ and Bruce presses play.

It's Bruce. Not a Bruce they know, but definitely  _ a _ Bruce. It takes Jason several seconds to realize that it is actually a Bruce they know: the same one who came to visit, the same one who lived with them while his counterpart mucked around in another dimension.

He just looks so  _ awful _ Jason didn't recognize him. He's got a coarse beard starting to grow, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He looks scraggly and maybe a little bit deranged, like he hasn't figured out how to properly care for himself just yet.

"Hello," he says, and his voice sounds almost as bad as their own Bruce's.

"No," Damian says, getting to his feet. "I'm not listening to him." He sounds  _ angry, _ and Bruce immediately goes after him as Damian flees the room.

"He's already seen it," Slade says under his breath, making no move to stop the video as the other Bruce stares into the camera.

"This was supposed to be a declaration of war," the other Bruce says, which Jason thinks really sets the tone of the whole thing. "I was going to tell you all that I was coming to destroy your life the way you'd destroyed mine. I was all ready. I'd figured out how to hop dimensions. But I wanted you to... to  _ know _ was coming. So you could dread it."

Jason clenches his hands into fists, taking a deep breath as he tries to keep himself calm. He's just happy this Bruce isn't here in the room with him, because Jason's not sure he'd be able to keep from swinging at him. He doesn't have that level of self control. He's not sure anyone does.

"I told a friend what I was planning," he says. "He disapproved, but wasn't going to stop me. But then he asked me... why. To explain why I wanted to do it."

He goes silent for a moment. His body language screams  _ broken, _ which is such a sharp contrast to how Bruce usually is that Jason's struggling to accept it.

"I couldn't," he says. "I couldn't explain to him why I was going to do it. Every time I thought I had a reason... In the end, I realized that you didn't break anything. You just made us aware that it was already broken."

"Pretty sure his friend was Clark," Slade says quietly in the silence. "Bruce asked Clark to help him out, if he could. I think he expected this kind of... major crash and burn."

Bruce's eyes wander, unwilling to look directly at the camera.

"In the end, I am nothing without Gotham. I am nothing without my mantle. If I'm not Batman, I don't know who I am, but I feel like... like Bruce Wayne isn't a real person anymore. There's just the Bat."

He reaches up, pinching at the bridge of his nose in a gesture that feels painfully familiar to Jason.

"So I am... trying to figure that out. I don't know what's coming next, but I thought that you, of all people, deserve to know that.That I am... trying to make things better. That I am trying to be better than what I was."

He looks at the camera, opening his mouth as if to speak again, and then simply shakes his head, reaching forward to turn off the camera completely.

"...That was something," Dick says quietly.

"No kidding," Slade says. "At least you knew it was coming. Bruce got blindsided with it when it first triggered. It's hidden inside Alfred's video, so it's not obvious unless you're specifically looking for it."

Jason doesn't know how he feels about it. He can't really  _ process _ it.

_ It sounds like he hasn't told his family, _ Joey signs, and Jason nods in agreement.

"Which is stupid of him," Tim says. "But pretty much what I expected, all things considered."

The restlessness gets to Jason, and he stands up abruptly.

"I'm going to go find Damian," he says. "I just... want to check in on him, make sure everything's going alright."

He's sure Bruce is with him, but that doesn't stop him from wanting to make  _ sure. _

"Alright," Slade says. "We'll be here."

Jason leaves the room, going to find his little brother.


	33. Chapter 33

He finds Bruce and Damian sitting out on the back porch, and he joins them, sitting on Damian's other side to hem him in.

"So," he says. "Bruce already fill you in?"

"I hate him," Damian says, which means  _ yes. _ "He doesn't deserve them."

Damian still feels tricked, and Jason can't really disagree.  _ He _ feels tricked. He feels like he treated the other Bruce as if he were a part of the family and had it blow back in his face.

"You remember one of the reasons we don't kill?" Jason asks, and Damian grunts which means  _ yes but I don't want to say so. _ "Because people can change. Just because he was a colossal asshole doesn't mean he'll stay that way forever. Maybe one day he'll be able to be a good person."

"You're thinking of Bane," Damian says, and even though he wasn't—more than anything he was thinking of himself—he nods anyway. Bane fits. A lot of people fit.

"Right now I'm talking about the other Bruce," he says, wrapping his arm around Damian's shoulder. "You know why?"

Damian looks up at him, and the look on his face makes it painfully obvious how much he's feeling the perceived  _ betrayal _ of the other Bruce being a scumbag. He wants it to be okay.

"Because on the other side of all this is another Damian who misses his father," Jason says. "Who doesn't have a Slade. And, from the sounds of it, is only just getting a Jason."

Damian's face falls, and after a moment he throws his arms around Jason's middle, hugging him tight. Jason returns it, and he smiles when Bruce leans in, trapping Damian between the two of them in a hug he can't escape.

"I should send him a nice video," Damian says quietly. "Tell them all about you. And how they should be... be nice to their Jason. About how this family cares even if you struggle with your tests."

"I think they'd like that," Jason says, giving Damian another squeeze. "Tell them all about your badass family and your great big brothers and how great your stepfather and father are."

"Maybe not too much of that," Bruce says quietly, his arms firmly occupied. "I don't want him running off to apprentice under Deathstroke."

"It worked out fine for  _ me,"  _ Jason says with a laugh, and the hug finally breaks all at once.

They spend a little bit longer on the porch, and then head back inside as the sun dips beneath the horizon. Things are calmer inside, less tense, and the family seems relatively unified as they discuss what's coming.

They agree to make videos when they've had time to cool down, in no great hurry to send the payload back. The conversation turns to Bruce's pending surgery (two days from then, with the best surgeon available), and then to Cass. Damian expresses his excitement at having a little sister, and Slade laughs.

"Pretty sure she's older than you, kiddo," he says.

"They don't know?" Tim asks.

_ Her age isn't clear, _ Bruce signs.  _ They can only estimate. They think she's sixteen. _

"Sorry Dami," Jason says with a grin. "You're still the baby of the family."

"Jackson is the baby of the family," Damian protests. "And age hardly matters. Tim is older than you!"

"Not this again," Slade groans.

"Seniority wins out," Jason says.

"Does it though?" Tim asks. "Being brothers doesn't have to do with vigilantism. So I think it's purely age."

_ Does this happen often? _ Joey signs, looking to Bruce and Slade for insight.

"All the time," Slade says. "They'll be ninety years old and still debating who's older."

"Well yeah," Tim says with a shit-eating grin. "Except I'll be ninety-two, and Jason will still just be ninety..."

Jason lobs a pillow at him, which starts to devolve into a full fledged pillow fight before Alfred calls a halt, shooing them out into the backyard. Slade produces a football, and they split off almost immediately into their usual teams.

Jason and Damian pair up, with Dick and Tim on the other side. Slade tries to sit out to balance the teams, because there's absolutely no way Bruce can play with his injuries, but Dick points out that someone has to balance Joey.

"Dick and Tim can have Slade," Jason says with a wink. "They'll need the handicap."

_ I hope you realize I have never played football in my life, _ Joey signs.  _ And don't know the rules. _

"Those two trees are their goal, and those two are ours. Ball gets tossed, mad scramble to grab it, if you catch it, sprint for the goal. Ball hits the ground, you're out. First side to ten wins."

"Somehow I don't remember those being the rules to American Football," Wintergreen says from the porch.

"If you aren't careful, they'll attempt to draft you into their games," Alfred warns.

"I'd prefer to watch," Wintergreen says with a laugh.

They've played before, and even the addition of Joey doesn't particularly change the dynamic. They all have their own ways of playing. Tim's quick to pass, while Dick's more eager to hold onto the ball. Slade's a juggernaut, and if they let him catch the ball it'll take all three of them piling onto him to get his feet out from under him. Damian takes advantage of his small size to dodge out of people's grasp (Slade in particular is vulnerable to it), while Jason's got a killer tackle.

They're evenly matched, and it's the addition of Joey that makes it something other than standard. Jason gets the impression that everyone's playing at their best in hopes of impressing Joey, and he's hardly any different.

Joey, for his complete lack of understanding of the game, fits into things perfectly. He's  _ excellent _ at catching, and Jason makes a decision then and there to never let him and Tim onto the same team for fear of what they'd do if teamed up.

But it's Jason, not Joey, who gets the winning point. They're two ahead (although Jason suspects Slade might be throwing the game a bit) when he drops Tim like a sack of potatoes, snatching the ball before it can hit the ground and going hard across the lawn. Damian plays dirty, darting in front of Slade and forcing him to dodge to keep from running him over, which leaves Dick the last man standing. Joey heads him off, and Jason sails between the trees uncontested.

"Victory!" He announces, spiking the ball into the lawn.

"Could have had it if I'd just run Damian over," Slade says with a sigh as Damian tries to lift Jason onto his shoulder. He can't, because he's  _ really _ not strong enough for that, so Slade settles for doing it himself, giving Jason a highly exaggerated victory parade back to the house.

Alfred has somehow—Jason's convinced it has to be magic—produced two pies in the time it took for them to finish up their game, even though he would have  _ sworn _ Alfred was watching the game the whole time. They retire into the house to eat, and Slade asks Dick how the gym's working.

Jason's been wondering, but he didn't want to ask just in case it was bad, but Dick's reaction is clearly positive, so he leans in to listen.

From what Dick says, it's going well, although he's spent a  _ lot _ of his time kicking out people who are just there to gawk at him.

_ The League have been good about giving us space, _ Bruce signs,  _ but I think Diana would appreciate it if we did an interview at some point. _

"You're not allowed," Slade says. "You can't talk."

_ And you're not  _ allowed _ to talk, _ Bruce signs, shooting Slade a dirty look.

"I could do it," Jason says. "I mean, I've got all that media training from Wayne Outreach."

"Probably the best plan," Tim says. "Work's been good about it, but I don't want to put any more focus on us with Jackson and all."

"No, it makes sense for it to be me," Jason says. "I'm already more public than most of you guys, and Slade can't be trusted to speak in public."

"Hey, I'm not  _ that _ bad," Slade says.

"You can manage just fine one on one, and the moment there's more than ten people listening in, you lose your marbles," Dick says.

"I'm afraid he's always been that way," Wintergreen says with a shake of his head. "Absolutely no head for public speaking."

"So sue me," Slade says. "I have many skills, and that's not one of them."

_ Try and remember that next time you go off script, _ Bruce signs, and Slade looks so  _ wounded _ that Jason can't stop himself from absolutely  _ howling  _ with laughter.


	34. Chapter 34

They play cards as a group, which is a hell of a lot more competitive than it probably should be. That's inevitably the tone for most of their activities, just the way it's always been: everything is training, even when it isn't. Poker teaches them to bluff. Snap teaches reaction time and awareness.

Jason's of the opinion that things are going really well, right up until he heads to his room to grab his phone charger and gets ambushed by Dick and Tim.

He  _ knows _ it's an ambush because Dick throws his arm around his shoulders, keeping him from just outright running, and Jason squints at the two of them, glancing between their faces. They both look... eager. Excited? Amused, he settles on, because that seems the most correct.

"What?" Jason asks, in absolutely no mood for... whatever the hell this is.

"Now Jay," Dick says, which sets off an alarm bell in his head, because he's  _ Jay,  _ not Jason. "Tim and I were talking, and we thought we should talk to you."

Oh no.

"About the family guest."

_ Oh no. _

"Wintergreen is perfect-"

"We're not talking about  _ Wintergreen,"  _ Tim says with a sigh. "We're talking about Joey."

Joey is, as far as Jason can tell, fitting in just fine, so the fact that they want to talk about him catches him off guard.

"What about him?" He makes himself say, because he can't just ignore them, even if they  _ are _ acting weird.

"Man, you  _ really _ do take right after Bruce, don't you?" Dick says with a shake of his head.

"Oh Dick, don't be a.... dick," Tim says. "Jason, Joey is  _ totally _ into you."

Jason's brain keeps working. It doesn't falter.

"No he doesn't," he says flatly, wondering how the hell they can be so wrong about it.

"Take it from me," Dick says. "He absolutely, one hundred percent is. Tim and I were in the middle of a hot debate about whether he was making fuck me eyes at you or fuck  _ you _ eyes at you when Tim pointed out that you might be taking after Bruce and totally oblivious to all the looks he was giving you."

"We're friends," Jason says, trying not to sound annoyed. He knows they don't mean it, but it definitely rubs at a sore spot for him. "Maybe he's wishing he'd chosen to just be family."

"Oh no," Tim says. "That was definitely not a family look. Nothing brotherly about that. The only time I've given Dick a look like that was when Barb was  _ insisting _ Dick has the best ass in the country, so I had to check it out for myself."

"I didn't need to know that," Dick says with a sigh. "But I'm with Tim. Definitely not a friends look, unless you're sleeping with your friends. He is super into you, and the longer we're here, the more obvious it is."

Jason can feel his face starting to burn. He knows it's not true, but the fact that Dick  _ and _ Tim think it is... well, that feels concerning to him. It means something else is going on that they're misunderstanding, and as he mentally sorts back through what's happened...

Is Joey jealous? It makes the most sense of the options to Jason, the idea that Joey might feel angry that Jason has the father he always wanted. The fact that it's very nearly the  _ same _ father probably doesn't help things.

"I'll handle it," Jason says, and Tim exhales in one big woosh.

"Jay," he says, "I know you're deep in denial, but try not to blow this. If you want to reject him... just... let him down nicely."

"He's not into-"

"Jason, please," Dick says. "Of the three of us, who has the most experience?"

"Well, I mean, I am  _ married,"  _ Tim points out, and Dick rolls his eyes.

"Not that kind of experience," he says. "Just trust us on this. Consider it. Open yourself to the possibility that Joey is  _ actually _ into you."

He tries. He really does. It just feels a lot like attempting to be open to the possibility that the moon might fly down out of the sigh and bash his head in. It's so obviously not what's happening that it doesn't feel like he should be giving it much thought.

Dick gives a highly exaggerated sigh as he finally releases Jason.

"Well, we've done what we can," he says. "Hopefully he doesn't blow it up  _ too _ badly."

"I'm right here," Jason says, and Dick and Tim exchange a  _ look  _ before sending him back towards his room to grab the charger he'd originally gone for.

Apparently the conversation has bothered him more than he'd admit, because he gets several concerned looks when he returns to the living room, where Damian and Barb are deep in a tense showdown of their game.

Jason ignores them, grabbing a seat on the couch, and tries not to think about it at all. Even if Joey  _ is _ jealous, he's pretty sure he doesn't want to bring it up. Better to let it die out with time and therapy.

Jason doesn't get the chance.

They see Dick, Tim, and Barbara out later that night, making sure there's no lingering reporters by the gates before sending them out, and then head back inside to clean up.

Jason doesn't make it to the kitchen before Joey tugs at his sleeve to draw his attention.

_ Are you alright?  _ He asks, eyebrows pressed tightly together, his concern written in every part of his body language. Jason wonders what gave it away, and decides the answer was probably  _ all of it. _

He weighs his options and decides that there's no point in pretending like he doesn't know. Not when Joey (and probably everyone else) are too damned good at reading him.

"Sorry," he says. "I was just... talking with Tim and Dick and they told me something I kind of wish I hadn't heard, because I know I'm going to end up overcompensating for it."

_ Anything you want to share?  _ Joey asks, his eyebrows going higher.

"Yeah, they just... this is the first time they've seen you in a bit, and they... well, we talked about you." He tries not to react to Joey's surprised look, forging onward anyway. "I know... I know you're probably feeling envious of the relationship I have with Slade. And... I'll do whatever you want to help you be comfortable with that."

He wants to be there for Joey, and if that means being less affection towards Bruce and Slade for a while, so be it. He knows he's probably not handling it as well as he could, but then he  _ is _ horribly out of his depth.

Joey's expression is stuck on one of pure surprised for several seconds.

_ That's what they think?  _ Joey signs.  _ That I'm... what, jealous of you and Slade doing the father-son thing? _

"Well, not really," Jason says. "They think you're, you know  _ interested  _ in me, but..."

Jason trails off as he registers the look on Joey's face. Polite amusement. Not shock. There's nothing in his expression that says  _ no, absolutely not that. _ No, his expression is entirely consistent with  _ finally figured it out, have you? _

Joey signs something, but Jason misses it entirely. He can't think. Can't process anything. The idea that Tim and Dick were  _ right _ has hit him like a hammer blow to the head, and he can't stop himself from mentally sorting back through every interaction he's ever had with Joey, looking for clues.

Only he doesn't see any.

But then he barely sees clues in his interactions with the two girls, and he's been  _ explicitly  _ told they were coming onto him, so maybe he's not the best judge.

"What?" Jason finally makes himself say, because it's the only thing he can think right then. His brain is just a cacophony of  _ what  _ repeated over and over.

_ At first I thought you just weren't interested, _ Joey signs.  _ But then I saw you with the girls, and I realized you were just totally oblivious to it. So I figured I'd give you a few more days to adjust to being at home again, and then start dialing it up until you noticed. I wasn't thinking about whether or not other people would tell you. _

"What?" Is all he can manage.

Joey signs, turning to face him completely so that all Jason can see is Joey. Joey, right there in front of him, a determined look in his eye as he lifts his hands higher than normal so Jason's less likely to miss them.

_ I like you, _ he signs.  _ If you want to reject me, that's fine and there won't be any hard feelings, but I'm also not going to take anything too self-deating for an answer. So if it's a no, it's a no. If it's an 'I'm not good enough', then I think that's for me to decide. _

Jason can't process anything. He just stands there, his mouth hanging slightly open. Apparently he takes too long, because Joey grabs his wrist, turning to tow him out of the hallway into a side room, and then eases him down so Jason's sitting and not going to just fall over.

"I'm not..." Jason starts, struggling to put it into words. "I'm not... attractive. I've got more scars than skin, and you could have... you could have pretty much anyone."

_ Well, that's step one, _ Joey signs.  _ We've confirmed you're attracted to me. _

Jason's still stuck on  _ Dick and Tim were right. _ He can't push himself past it, can't move on. He's not ready for anything at all, and he's certainly not ready for Joey to lean forward slightly, his hands coming up to sign a message that steals Jason's breath.

_ Can I kiss you? _

Jason doesn't know how to respond. Not just that he doesn't know which answer he wants to give, but because he's pretty sure language is beyond him right then. He just  _ can't. _ Can't  _ anything. _

The seconds drag on, and Joey seems to read something in his silence that might not even be there.

_ That's alright, _ Joey signs.  _ I'm not going to push you for an answer. Get some sleep, alright? _

His fingers trail over Jason's arm as he gets up, and each one feels like it leaves a fiery trail in its wake as he leaves the room. Jason's stuck, frozen in time, unable to unstick himself no matter how he tries.

Because Tim and Dick were right. Because Joey likes him.

Because Joey doesn't understand that Jason isn't worth that kind of attention.


	35. Chapter 35

It's Titus who draws him out of it, nosing at Jason's hand as he expresses his concern in his own unique way. At night he's left to roam the mansion as their largely unnecessary guard dog, and finding Jason not in his room has obviously thrown him off.

"Sorry boy," Jason says quietly, reaching down to scratch Titus between the ears. "I'll get out of your hair."

There's no question of where he's going. There's really only one place  _ to _ go.

He feels untethered, drifting through the minutes as time passes him by. He knows how he gets. He knows that when he's like this, right on the verge of something  _ bad, _ that being by himself is the enemy. He'll spiral on his own, and he  _ knows _ from years of experience that it's better to go to someone he trusts than to try and ride it out on his own.

He knocks at the door to the master bedroom, and a few moments later, Slade opens the door.

Jason doesn't know what time it is. He figures everyone assumes he went to bed, since that was what he was doing before he got blindsided. Slade looks like he just got out of bed, but Jason's not together enough to tell if he was asleep or just about to be.

"Can we talk?" He asks, and Slade glances behind him before stepping out, closing the door behind him.

He seems to know before Jason's even said anything. Slade  _ knows, _ and often Jason feels like Slade knows him better than Jason knows himself. He simply accepts it when Slade pulls him into a hug, holding him there outside his bedroom for a moment before letting him go and scooting down towards Jason's own room. It's more private, and they're less likely to have someone walk in on them, and Jason appreciates that.

He also appreciates that he doesn't have to explain. That Slade just  _ knows. _ He pulls Jason into a hug, letting him bury his face against Slade's shoulder. He doesn't cry. This isn't a crying situation. He's just  _ overwhelmed. _

It takes a long time for him to not be overwhelmed. It takes a long time before Slade breaks the hug, looking down at Jason.

"You want to talk about it?"

The answer is no. He doesn't want to talk about it. But he knows better than to bottle, so he  _ makes _ him talk about it.

"Joey..." He says, trying to figure out where to event start. "Joey likes me."

"Going to assume that's in a  _ more than friends _ manner," Slade says, and Jason glances up, trying to read his expression and finding what he expects.

"You knew."

"Suspected," Slade admits. "He was sending up signals, but I wasn't sure if I was reading them right. He confess?"

"Dick and Tim told me, and I... asked. I didn't think they were right."

Slade rests a hand on his shoulder, and Jason sags forward, leaning against him for support.

"He doesn't want me," Jason says. "He wants what he... what he thinks of me. And there are so many things that can go wrong..."

Even if he tried, the possibilities of what comes after terrify him. He has no faith they'll work out, and if they  _ don't _ work out, that leaves things... He doesn't even know. Just  _ awful. _ He has no doubts that his family would side with him, which just leaves Joey alone.

He doesn't want that. The risk seems too great.

"There's always things that can go wrong," Slade says. "What matters is if it's worth trying anyway. You think I was confident when I started out with your father? I'd pretty much convinced myself it wasn't worth taking the risk when Clark brought it up."

Jason's heard the story, but almost entirely from Bruce's end. The idea that Slade was genuinely  _ nervous  _ catches him off guard, and he squints up at him, trying to figure out if Slade genuinely means it, or if he's just trying to tell Jason what he wants to hear.

But he seems genuine.

"So you... think I should?"

"I think you should think about it," Slade says. "Get a feel for what  _ you _ want. Do you like him that way? Is it something you want to try?"

He doesn't know, and there's no easy answers.

"Let me break it down into chunks," Slade says. "Do you think Joey's attractive?"

That feels small and easy, and he simply nods.

"Do you care about him?"

"I care about everyone," Jason says. "I don't know... I'm not sure where the line is. What's the difference between caring about him as a friend, and caring about him as something else?"

"You'll know," Slade says. "You'll know the feelings are there because you'll start putting them first in your ahead, even before yourself."

He stops himself, because that's wrong. It doesn't matter. None of that matters.

"I can't," he says. "He won't... he doesn't want-"

"That's for him to decide, isn't it?" Slade asks. "Everyone gets to decide what they do or don't want. If Joey decides that he likes you, then he does. What we're talking about here is how  _ you  _ feel."

He's afraid. Afraid it's going to go wrong and ruin everything for him. Or not even for him. For  _ Joey.  _ Because if things go wrong he loses very little, and Joey loses the only thing he has left.

Maybe that's what Slade meant when he said  _ you start putting them first. _

"I'm just afraid it's going to go wrong," he admits, and Slade pulls him closer.

"I know," he says. "It's a big deal for you. I really... I really want this to work out for you, because I know it's important to you. You want some advice?"

Jason wants nothing more than to get some advice from Slade. He wants  _ wisdom. _ Slade's done this before. He'll know what to do.

"Take it slow," Slade says. "Don't be in a hurry. But you've got a good head on your shoulders, and you're good at communicating, so... do that. Communicate. Tell him what you're thinking and how things are going for you, and if he gives you any trouble I'll kick his ass."

Jason absolutely does not want Slade kicking Joey's ass, and he winces in response.

"...I'll have some firm words with him," Slade corrects.

"Love you," Jason says quietly, and Slade pulls him into one last hug before finally letting him go.

"You need to get to bed," he says. "You need sleep or you're going to feel like death warmed over."

"I already feel like that," Jason says.

"All the more reason to sleep."

He gives Jason one last kiss on the forehead and makes a point of tucking him in. It feels petty and childish, but it's something he never really had as a kid, so he appreciates the sentiment anyway.

Slade turns the light off and closes the door, and Jason is left alone with his thoughts.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20089711/chapters/48686903) (explicit) drabble, based on the events of last chapter!

Someone knocks on his door, dragging him out of sleep, and Jason accepts that it's way, _ way _ too early immediately.

Or maybe not _ early, _ but he's definitely not had enough sleep.

"I'm up!" He yells, and the knocking stops, which tells him it's probably either Alfred, or someone Alfred's sent to check on him.

It's almost ten, which means he's slept in and probably made a bunch of people worry.

He showers and skips his scar homework (that's another pang of guilt), heading into the house with his hair still damp. Everyone else has already eaten, but Alfred still has something on the table for him when he gets there.

"Everyone already left?" He asks, pretty sure they have.

"Master Bruce and Slade have left for some legal work," Alfred says. "I believe relating to Mr. Luthor's trial. Master Damian ran off immediately after breakfast to visit with Jon. Mister Wilson left a short while ago to head into town.

It feels weird to have Joey be _ Mr. Wilson, _ if he's being honest with himself, but not as much as the idea that he just _ went into town. _

"Alone?"

"With Mister Row," Alfred says. "He stopped by to pick him up just after breakfast."

Cullen. He went into town with Cullen? Jason's brain jumps to the most logical conclusion, but he pushes it aside. Just because Jason didn't say _ yes _ doesn't mean Joey's going to suddenly try and hook up with Cullen. There are probably a _ lot _ of reasons he's out with Cullen, but the most obvious is also the most likely: Joey's just trying to establish relationships outside their immediate family.

"Do you... have any suggestions for things I should be doing?" Jason asks as he works his way through the food.

"You might go and visit the Kents and check on your brother," Alfred says. "I don't believe you've seen the house, and I think the boys might be excited to see you again."

He takes Alfred's advice once he's done eating, heading out the back towards the start of the path. He's not sure if Bruce has already bought it, but he knows he'll have bought it before long. It's a chunk of woods with no (or very little) street access, and anyone who owns it will no doubt happily be rid of it in exchange for a hunk of cash.

There's little signs pinned to trees which keep him from wandering off, and he hasn't been walking more than five minutes when he emerges from the trees into a great big yard. It's empty, which isn't that surprising, so he heads to the door, knocking once.

The door opens so fast that he thinks, just for a moment, that they must have been waiting for him. Then he realizes the truth: it's a house where everyone with the sole exception of Lois has superspeed.

One of the clones answers, but the yellow shirt tells him it's _ probably _ Yen answering.

Assuming they're even still using the system.

"Come on upstairs," probably-Yen says. He turns, gesturing for Jason to follow, and then heads into the house.

It's a big house. It's not the manor, but it's still a pretty damned big house. None of the furniture or decoration he sees fits with the Kent's decorating style, so he's pretty sure it's just whatever was left over from when the Whit's lived there. He even spots a few places where there _ should _ be a piece of furniture or something on the wall, only it's been removed.

Yen leads him into a large room with a bunch of tables set up, and Jason spots the other four clones, Damian, Jon, and Clark gathered around one.

"Oh thank God," Clark says under his breath as he zips over to Jason. "Another adult. Can I draft you into my war on placement testing?"

"What are we doing exactly?" Jason asks, leaning over to get a good look at the clones. They're all hunched over a table, furiously scribbling at what looks like tests.

"We couldn't figure out how to explain them," Clark says. "In the end, we decided they're my great-nephews, and that their father on the west coast died suddenly. We're saying he was in a cult in an attempt to... ah, explain any oddities..."

"Also the fact that no one's heard of five identical... quintuplets?"

"We are helping them go through placement testing," Damian explains. "In order to assess how much they do or do not know."

"They seem to have been pre-loaded with a lot of information somehow or another," Clark says. "We're not sure how, but it makes our job a lot less challenging."

"There are holes though," Damian says. "Like, they basically know nothing about pop culture. They didn't even know who The Beatles are!"

"Makes sense Luthor wouldn't have interest in that," Jason says. "Sure, I'll help out."

Helping out is mostly sitting down and keeping an eye on two of the clones, handing them the next test before passing the finished one over to clark for grading. He ends up sitting with Blue and Yen, and helping them work through them all until close to lunch, which is a procedure in itself. They have to herd the boys down to the large dining room, and then Clark attempts to cook enough food to feed everyone while mumbling under his breath.

"I don't know how Alfred does it," he says. "It's been an adjustment. I have the month off work to try and get things under control, but I feel like I'm barely handling it."

"Sounds like you need actual help," Jason says.

"Easier said than done," Clark says. "The League's busy enough as is, and we can't exactly grab anyone else. Ma and pa... They're talking about selling the farm and moving up here to help. It breaks my heart to think of them selling it, but pa can't keep up with it anyway."

"It'd be good to have family around," Jason says. "Plus, you know, they have experience with wrangling superkids."

"Superteenagers," Ren corrects.

"We'll work something out," Clark says. "We always do."

He ends up staying longer than he intends, helping Clark out around the house. He seems awfully overwhelmed, but it's clear he's adjusting to the new situation.

At one point, Yen drags Jason up to show him their room with the rest of the group tagging along, and he learns that Clark and Lois have taken their advice: while each clone has their own room, that room doesn't have a bed in it, just a place for their clothes and things. They all sleep in a single shared room, outfitted with bunk beds.

"Sometimes I sneak in and sleep in that one," Jon says from over his shoulder, pointing to one of the beds. "Someone has to keep an eye on them, so it might as well be me."

"I think we're watching _ you," _Ren says. "Since you're our little brother."

"No way!" Jon protests. "You guys aren't even a month old. I'm your big brother."

"But we're literally bigger," Gar points out. "We're effectively older, too."

"Oh no," Damian groans. "Not this again."

Jason ends up dragging Damian back home when Lois gets back mid-afternoon, leaving the family be as they head back to the house. Alfred puts them to work almost immediately, announcing that Steve and Diana have called ahead to let them know that they'll be arriving, which means a whole _ dinner, _ rather than just the family sitting down together.

It's a busy afternoon, and Jason prefers it that way.

Less time to think.


	37. Chapter 37

Steve and Diana arrive with Bruce and Slade, and if Jason's being honest with himself, he's happy to see them. They feel  _ normal. _ Like things are getting back to the way they were.

"Jason!" Diana says as they head in the door. "Good to see you're back in one piece."

"I assume you heard from Arthur and Clark?" He asks, getting a sly smile from her in response.

"I heard one or two things about your trip," Steve says. "Hopefully you had a good vacation, though."

"It was... fun," Jason says. "Not much to complain about, I don't think."

"Arthur was... very apologetic," Diana says as Steve breaks off to speak with Slade, heading farther into the house. "Oh, I have something for you."

She digs into her bag, producing a small card, which she holds out for Jason to take.

He takes it without thinking, and it's only when he glances down that his stomach flips.

It's a Justice League ID card.

"I didn't-"

"It's not about agreeing," Diana says. "It's about functionality. We're working on a new headquarters in Metropolis, and that includes new security features. Biometrics will get you to a certain point, but we need a way to prove that  _ you _ are still you."

"You're worried about our counterparts," Jason asks, glancing down at the card. It's got his name, his codename, and his photo, as well as  _ RESERVE _ stamped in the corner. "Reserve?"

"You're not a full member," Diana says. "You haven't agreed, and I'm not going to force you, and you're retired anyway. So you're in reserve. If the world's ending, we know we can count you, because I know there's not a chance you wouldn't run out to help."

It feels like praise, and Jason does his best to keep his cool as he pulls out his wallet, tucking the card into it.

"Everyone's getting one?"

"I have one each member of your family. We also set up a junior membership card for your younger brother," Diana says, "as well as Clark's boys. A way to get them into a safe area if they need it, but also not giving them full access."

"He'll be delighted to have a League membership," Jason says. "Just don't put  _ junior _ on the card."

"Too late," Diana says with a grin. "They're already all printed."

They head into the kitchen, and Jason's surprised to realize that Joey still isn't home.

"Joey?" He asks, glancing towards Alfred.

"Mister Wilson called while you were over at the Kent's house," he says. "He said he was going to stay out a bit later, and not to wait up."

It's not like he  _ wants _ to have the talk with him, but every time it gets put off, it makes him nervous.

Dinner is a mix of subjects that keeps bouncing around. Someone asks about how Bruce's consult went, and Slade hops in to explain Bruce is getting surgery in two days.

"When were you going to tell  _ us _ that?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I just did," Slade says. "It isn't a big deal. Your father will just be a bit loopy, but otherwise he'll be home a few hours after the fact."

"What's happening with the trial?" Damian asks, which swerves the subject hard. He looks quite focused, and Jason suspects it has to do with his obvious protectiveness for Jon's 'little brothers'.

"For Luthor?" Steve asks. "We've managed to convince the powers that be to lie to the public, so that's nice."

"Which of the fifty possible things are we lying about, exactly?" Jason asks.

"The clones," Diana says. "Specifically, we're saying that there is  _ one _ clone. One clone is enough proof for what we need, and we managed to convince the government that saying how many clones there are would put them at risk."

"We named the totally-real-single-clone  _ Conner, _ for the record," Slade says.

"So he's going to trial?" Jason asks.

"Law says no secret trials," Steve says. "It's been an uphill battle to hide as much as we can, but we can't just secret trial him and throw away the key. So we're trying to keep as much public as we reasonably can, which means a lot of focus on Bruce."

"They're eager to start the trial," Diana says. "Only obviously we can't start it right away."

"Having Batman testify via interpreter would be quite a sight to see," Alfred says dryly.

"Everyone's waited all this time to hear the legendary Batman speak, only he's not allowed because of doctor's orders," Wintergreen says, sounding increasingly amused.

The security system beeps the  _ someone's at the door _ beep, and Alfred goes to check it before letting out an exhausted sigh.

"I am afraid," he says as he turns back to the table, "that is most likely child services at the gate."

"Let 'em in," Slade says. "I'll handle it, you guys can finish dinner."

Jason's already getting to his feet, as is Wintergreen, who's apparently been briefed.

"Back in a minute," he says, noting the angry look on Damian's face. He can only imagine how things went the first time they were there.

The pair from child services look like they're making a real attempt to stay professional, but it's also clear that they're horribly out of their element. There's nothing normal or standard about what's happening as Jason shakes their hands and introduces himself as if they don't already know who he is, and there's even less standard when Slade mentions they have guests who are already aware of the situation, and it's not an issue.

Jason's just happy he doesn't mention who their guests  _ are. _

The fact that Joey isn't there turns out to be a non-issue, and the one splits off with Wintergreen while the other—a man in this late thirties by the looks of him—heads into Bruce's office with Jason for some privacy.

He introduces himself as  _ James, _ pulls out a folder with his notes and paperwork, and then gets to it.

"So," he says, "normally we do this the day of in order to minimize how much you can talk about things. I assume you were already told what the investigation's about?"

"People are worried letting Damian run around as Shrike was bad and who knows what else Bruce has been up to," he says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "So now you need to interview me."

"This is going to be a very... general interview," the man says. "We've already got a variety of details from everyone else in the family, and I've already spoken to your brother." He pauses, eyes flicking up from the folder he's got in his hands. "He is your brother, correct?"

"Damian's my brother," he says. "I've got two older brothers, but they don't live with us."

"Hold on," James says. "You have two older brothers?"

Oh god, already? He's  _ already _ having this issue.

"Dick—Richard—and Tim."

"And Timothy is older...?"

"He's older than me by two years," Jason says, resisting the urge to tell the man how many months apart they are. "But I joined the family first, so we jokingly argue over who the older brother is."

James makes note of that, and Jason feels like he's back in school, taking a test he hasn't studied for.

"How long have you known Damian?"

"Not a question you have to ask often, I guess," he says. "Four years? Five years? Since he first arrived."

"And how would you describe when he joined the family?"

Jason has no goddamn idea how much they did or didn't tell. He knows that James must know about the League, but what about everything else? Does he know Slade killed them? Does he know Slade fucking  _ abducted _ Damian?

He probably should have prepared more for this.

"He didn't really like us to start," Jason says, deciding to avoid the tricky parts entirely. "He'd been convinced by his mother that... well, a bunch of stuff. He definitely started off on the 'Jason isn't my brother because he's not blood' sort of thing, but Bruce made it clear to him that he wouldn't tolerate that. He didn't like Slade much either, probably for the same reason."

"At that point were Mr. Wilson and your father...?"

"Together? Oh no. They were like... co-parenting, I guess. Slade was basically my dad and Bruce was trying to get into a position where they were  _ also _ my dad."

James's expression goes all pinched like he's trying and failing to wrap his brain around what Jason's saying, so Jason gives him a bit of context.

"Bruce wasn't a bad guy, but he wasn't exactly prepared for raising a street kid who'd had a screwed up childhood when he took me in. He tried his best, but we had a lot of issues, and then other factors convinced me that he'd replaced me with Tim. When Damian joined the family, our relationship was still being repaired."

James's expression doesn't clear up. If anything, he looks even more confused, but apparently decides that what the hell  _ other factors _ means is outside the scope of his investigation.

"You get along with Damian?"

"I'd say I do, yeah. We're close, and since we're the two who live at home, I see a lot of him."

"How did you feel when Mr. Wayne allowed him to take up the-" He rifles through his paperwork as if he doesn't know what comes next. "-Shrike persona?"

Jason knows it's business as usual and he  _ has _ to ask, but he still feels a bit defensive, and has to take a moment to temper his response.

"I thought it was the best thing he could have done at the time. Damian was a wildcard, and I figured it was only a matter of time before he ran away from the manor to restart the League."

"The League of Assassins?"

"Well, he certainly wasn't restarting the Justice League," Jason says with a snort. "It was what he was raised with. He'd been told over and over again he was going to inherit it. Finding out that it was gone and he was going to have to be a normal kid was hard for him, and he didn't exactly take the adjustment well."

"So... Shrike?"

"Helped him feel like part of the family," Jason says. "More importantly, if he was going to sneak out and do it anyway, we'd all rather he be sneaking out in a suit so heavily armored that it'd make a SWAT team blush."

James makes a note of that.

"What was Shrike's most recent patrol?"

"He hasn't patrolled in a while," Jason says. "Last action was the day New Arkham was attacked."

"He wasn't there?"

"The house got attacked," he says. "Non-lethal, they were obviously trying to draw our attention away. Damian was at home and handled things mostly by himself. He did a good job with it, too. Prioritized defense, called for backup, didn't go chasing after the bad guy. He's come a long way."

"What do you think he'd have done when he first arrived?"

"Screamed in rage about how someone dared attack his place of residence and then run off by himself to kill them, probably. He wasn't exactly great on the  _ holding back _ or  _ being calm and rational _ side of things."

James winces at the mention of Damian killing someone.

"How has he adjusted to civilian life?"

"In general, or post-retirement?"

"Both, if you can."

"Hard for him to adjust," Jason says. "He's too well educated and above the level of his peers to go into the grade he should be in. We've been helping him find friends through other ways. He's got art class on Mondays, and he's befriended some neighborhood kids."

"Is he maintaining those friendships now that he's been publicly revealed?"

Jason can't say  _ oh, they already knew, his dad is superman, _ so he says the next best thing.

"He's kept them," Jason says. "He's a kid: I'm pretty sure he told them on the sly years ago."

James smiles at that and notes it down.

"Post-retirement?"

"Hard to say," he says. "Hasn't been that long. I think he's going to miss going out at night, but Slade..." He sighs, struggling to believe he's going to even say it. "Slade distracted him with a cow."

"...A cow."

"Damian likes animals," Jason explains. "Big animal person. Slade spent some quality time with him by taking him to a petting zoo so he could interact with animals, and one of the cows had a marking that looked a lot like a bat across its face, and Damian declared it was  _ batcow _ and now I have to spend every waking moment trying to convince Damian that no, we don't need to go visit batcow today."

James blinks at him several times as if, of all the things he's heard, this is the weirdest.

"I know," Jason says. "It's weird, but Damian's a weird kid, and if he wants to befriend people by visiting a cow, so be it."

"I think that covers all my big questions," he says, snapping the folder shut. "General policy is you'll hear back in less than a week with the results, but we'll be handling that directly with your father."

"Figured as much," Jason says. "I'll show you out."

Wintergreen's interview is already done, and Slade takes over, seeing the two out as Jason and Wintergreen head back to the kitchen. Jason can't stop himself from asking, the curiosity getting the better of him.

"What'd they ask you?"

"My relationship to the family," Wintergreen says. "If I'd seen anything unusual. I gave him a very flat look at that and he had to clarify that he meant  _ in terms of familial relationships." _

"Surprised they even interviewed you."

"Technically I am living here," Wintergreen points out. "Not in the same way you are, but I am."

"...It's been nice having you here," Jason admits. "You fit in well."

"I've gotten used to dealing with Slade at his worst," Wintergreen says. "Everything else is easy to adjust to in comparison."

Wintergreen stares at him a moment longer, and then turns back to the kitchen, and Jason fights the urge to ask what it was he wanted to say before deciding that it either isn't important or isn't the right time for it, but either way it's not his place to ask.


	38. Chapter 38

Every minute Joey isn't home cranks Jason's nerves that much higher. He sees Steve and Diana off after dinner, and then retires to one of the front sitting rooms to wait, getting increasingly anxious as time ticks by. He  _ knows _ it's probably not what he thinks, but he can't stop his brain from running through the worst case scenarios over and over again: that Joey decided he wasn't willing to wait for an answer and thought he'd give Cullen a shot instead. That Joey realized he wasn't worth it.

His brain is warring with itself. Half of him says  _ that's the truth, he shouldn't be with you, _ and the other half feels ill at the very idea.

Joey gets home just after eight, and it takes all of Jason's self control to not ambush him in the doorway, waiting for him to get his shoes off. But he doesn't have  _ nearly _ as much self control as he probably should, because he clears his throat, trying to stand up straight and look dignified and not like a dog who's seeking a handout by looking small and pathetic.

"Joey?" He calls. "Could we talk?"

_ Sure, _ Joey signs.  _ Just a minute, I need to drop this off. _ He hefts a bag and leaves Jason behind for a short while, heading off towards his bedroom to drop the bag.

The minutes he takes feel like centuries.

Joey looks perfectly normal when he gets back, waving to Jason as he heads into the room.

_ You wanted to talk? _ He signs, casual as can be.

"You went out with Cullen?" Jason says, which is exactly what he  _ didn't _ want to say. He wasn't going to bring it up. Only now he has, and Joey's eyebrows scrunch together, reading Jason's expression and his body language and coming up with the exact answer Jason doesn't want him to find.

_ It wasn't like that, _ Joey signs.  _ When I turned down Cullen, I offered to wingman for him. He needed a new wardrobe that actually fit him properly rather than t-shirts he got out of a walmart, and he wasn't sure where he'd even go to find people. I showed him some places I knew about in Gotham, and explained some stuff to him, and then made sure things were going well before another friend of his showed up. _

Jason feels himself deflate. Stupid. Of course he was helping Cullen. Of course it wasn't  _ that. _ He feels embarrassed, his cheeks burning as he glances away, and he hears more than sees Joey crossing the room towards him, sitting down on the couch beside him.

Shit. He should have picked an armchair.

_ Rose used to say I moved on too quickly, _ Joey signs.  _ But it's only moving on if there's an actual no, and right now it's just a  _ I need some time, _ unless you've changed your mind. _

Jason has changed his mind. He's changed his mind because he  _ wants. _ Wants a lot of things he can't have, only Joey's gone out of his way to offer up. Wants things he _ shouldn't _ have, because the consequences of things going wrong seems so high.

But that doesn't stop him from wanting.

"I... thought about it," he says, his hands twisting together in his lap. "But I can't... I can't let you go into it blind."

It feels like a compromise to him, even if he doubts anyone else would consider it one. He can't risk the worst case scenario. He can't say yes and go on dates and let himself fall in love only to have Joey pull back when he sees how bad it is. He can't risk his reaction to how bad the scarring is.

He'd rather have Joey know  _ now  _ and retract the offer. It would hurt, but it would hurt so much less than getting his hopes up.

"I'll show you," he says. "I'll show you how bad it is and then you can just... you can just decide from there."

He doesn't look at him. He can't. He can't face the response. He's going to be sick.

He turns away, reaching down to pull his shirt off over his head, and shows Joey his back. The front might have been a better idea—he's pretty sure there's less scarring there—but he can't stand the idea of looking at Joey right then.

The entire thing is a terrible idea and he feels sick to his stomach as he fights the urge to vomit from pure stress.

Joey can see. He can see how bad it is. He's one of the few people in the world who know how bad it is, who have even a  _ general _ understanding of what's going on under his clothes. Jason's always careful with it. He doesn't go to the pool or the beach or anything without covering up. He doesn't let his shirt ride up, even accidentally. He wears long pants and sleeves, even when it's boiling outside because he doesn't want to  _ subject _ anyone to it.

Slade's the only one who sees it.

He's not sure even Bruce has seen how bad it is.

He doesn't want him to.

And now Joey's looking.

The thought  _ burns _ him so hard that he almost misses the touch just beside his spine. He can barely feel it, the nerves long since having died, but he can feel the  _ pressure _ of the scar tissue shifting, an entirely surreal sensation that makes his breath catch.

Joey doesn't say anything because he can't, but Jason can feel his fingers moving down the scar tissue anyway, tracing it with his fingers. His entire body shivers from the feeling, almost entirely alien to him, and when Joey's hand reaches up to nudge his shoulder to try and make him turn, Jason lets him.

But he doesn't open his eyes. He can't open them. He can't look at him. He can't stand the look of disgust he knows he'll see.

He isn't prepared for Joey's arms to wrap around his sides, pulling him into a hug. He's not  _ ready, _ and he breaks down immediately, burying his face into Joey's shoulder as he sobs into the fabric of his shirt. He doesn't understand. He doesn't know how to process the hug, but he knows he wants it anyway. He wants the comfort it represents, the acceptance, even if he's sure it comes with a heaping dose of pity.

Maybe that's what this is. Maybe he's not disgusted: maybe it's just pity. Maybe he feels for him like he feels for an injured child. Maybe that's all.

Joey's hand presses against his chest and he gestures. It takes Jason far too long to realize he's signing, fingerspelling against his skin to try and get his attention. He doesn't need to even try and figure it out to know what he's saying. He's asking him to look. He's trying to communicate. Jason doesn't want to. He's doing the equivalent of shoving his fingers in his ears, but he knows he can't stay that way forever.

He lifts his head and opens his eyes as Joey pulls back. He can't make himself look at his face, so he only looks at Joey's hands, dreading what he's going to say.

_ This doesn't change anything, _ Joey signs.  _ You're still you. _

Jason can't see the rest, the tears welling in his eyes, and he can't stop himself from burying his face in Joey's shoulder again. Joey wraps his arms around him, and Jason lets himself just  _ enjoy _ it. Lets himself just bask in the fact that at the very least Joey's willing to pretend.

He's willing to pretend like it doesn't change anything.

They sit there for a long time, with Jason's arms wrapped around Joey's shoulders, and Joey's arms around his torso.

It feels good. It feels calm and normal and  _ right, _ even if a thousand anxieties keep surfacing whether he wants them to or not. It still feels good, even with all that.

Joey makes a noise that isn't a word, and Jason finally pulls back, breaking the hug. He's sure he's a mess, but he has other things on his mind right then.

_ Hugging's nice and all, _ Joey signs.  _ But my arms are going numb. _

It feels like a joke, an attempt at lightening the mood, and Jason tries to smile and doesn't quite make it.

_ I meant what I said, _ Joey continues.  _ This doesn't change anything. I still feel the same way I did before. _

Jason glances down and realizes he's still shirtless, and even with all of Joey's reassurances that it's fine, it doesn't stop him from snatching his shirt up, pulling it over his head as fast as he can to hide himself.

God, he really is a mess.

"I don't..." Jason says, voice cracking. It takes a moment for him to recover, to forward onward, and Joey waits patiently for him to do so. "I don't know how you can not care."

_ Scars tell you a lot about a person, _ Joey signs.  _ Your scars are proof you survived. That you went through so much but still came out the other side. And... _

Joey seems to pause himself, uncertain if he wants to continue.

"And?" Jason says. He has to know. It's already eating at him.

_ They aren't as bad as I thought they would be,  _ Joey signs.  _ From how you acted I thought you were entirely scar tissue, so I braced myself for that. _

Jason doesn't know how to react to that, but he's sure he's gone pink.

_ Can I kiss you? _ Joey signs, and Jason dares a glance upwards, looking at Joey's face. He looks... fine. Happy, even.  _ Normal. _ Not at all like someone who just saw the worst case of scarring Jason can imagine.

Which makes it easy to nod his head, not trusting his mouth to form anything that might be considered coherent.

Joey leans forward and kisses him. It feels so sudden that Jason's sent mentally reeling. He's expecting... build-up. Maybe some dramatic music. Maybe he's too used to seeing people kiss in movies and on TV, and not used to people doing it in  _ real life. _

But the surprise goes away and leaves him just with what's happening. With the feeling of Joey's hands on his sides, holding him lightly for support. His own hands grope for purchase, finding a place just above Joey's hips, and he leans in, eager for more warmth.

Eager for more of Joey.

Because the kiss is what he wants. It's soft and warm and  _ right,  _ and it's so easy to melt into it. He doesn't know what he's doing, so he just lets Joey take the lead, happy that at least one of them knows what they're doing.

It's just  _ good, _ and right then, that's all he needs.


	39. Chapter 39

He keeps waiting for it to be over. For them to be interrupted, or maybe for Joey to pull away and say he's changed his mind. But instead it lingers, stopping only when Jason remembers he needs to breathe, breaking the kiss to gasp for air.

He's sure he looks like a disaster. He can feel how red his face is, and he can't quite catch his breath, and things go from bad to worse when Joey leans in again, kissing him again.

It's deeper this time, and he feels Joey's tongue swipe across his bottom lip and forgets he's supposed to be breathing.

Joey is overwhelming, but it's still  _ good. _ He's so far out of his depth he's struggling to even figure out what he's doing, but it's still  _ good. _

"Joey," he gasps, and Joey pulls back, apparently taking it as a  _ we need to talk _ rather than the  _ please never stop _ it was meant to be.

He doesn't know what to say, so he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

"I love you."

Joey reels back, eyes going wide, and Jason realizes he's said the wrong thing. He's fucked it up. He's not supposed to say it, he's not-

_ You don't mean that, _ Joey signs, and as quickly as he's said it, Jason's sure he's right. He's just... very, very overwhelmed. He can feel the panic starting, and Joey reaches down, grabbing Jason's hands (when did they even get in his lap? He doesn't remember moving them) and giving them a squeeze before signing quickly.

_ Everything is fine, _ he signs.  _ It was a good kiss, and you haven't ruined anything. _ It's like Joey can read his mind, pushing down the thoughts as fast as they come like he's playing mental whack a mole.  _ I just need to be more careful, and go slower. _

"You - you're used to people with more experience," Jason says. He's well, well aware he's behind the curve. He knows it. He's never done  _ anything _ with anyone, and while he's sure Joey knows he's never done  _ that, _ he's not sure Joey realizes just how inexperienced he is.

Like the fact that he's never kissed anyone before.

_ Most of the time, _ Joey signs.  _ But that isn't a bad thing. It just means I have to go slow. _

"I don't... I don't know why you're-" He makes himself stop. He probably sounds needy.

Joey leans forward and presses a kiss to his forehead, and Jason stops worrying quite as much as he did.

_ I am willing to go slow, _ Joey signs.  _ I just need you to meet me halfway and not second guess everything, alright? _

Jason nods, swallowing down his anxieties. His mouth feels dry, and when Joey reaches down to squeeze his hand, he forgets what he was worrying about.

_ We should call it a night,  _ Joey signs.  _ We can talk more tomorrow, alright? _

He nods, because that seems like the only thing he can do right then, and Joey gets up, helping pull him to his feet. It's probably for the best, because Jason suspects he'd have just sat there all night otherwise, and he lets Joey gently pull him out of the room, heading towards the guest wing.

"I'm going to - I need some water," he says. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Joey glances back and nods, giving him a smile before squeezing his hand and letting go.

Jason watches his retreating back and feels like he's living in a dream. Like he's going to wake up at any moment.

He practically has a heart attack when he enters the kitchen to find Slade sitting at the island, sipping his drink perfectly nonchalantly.

"So," he says, "everything go alright?"

Jason's face  _ burns. _

"How much do you know?"

"Enough," Slade says, patting the stool beside him. "Sit. I'll grab you some water."

Jason sits, and Slade sets down a glass of water in front of him.

"Drink," he says. "You're red as a tomato."

God. So much for keeping it from... literally anyone. He could keep his cover under a cowl, but dealing with family? He's beyond useless.

"So?" Slade prompts.

"It was nice," Jason says, because he's not sure what you're supposed to say about a kiss. "He was... he was sweet."

"Mmm," Slade says. "He'd better be. I hear you have a scary family."

Jason scowls at that, and Slade grins at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm kidding," he says. "I don't think... I'm sure Joey wouldn't do anything to hurt you. If I'd had any worries about that, I'd have expressed my concerns. I am worried  _ in general, _ but I've been told that's a usual level of worrying for a father."

Wait a second.

"Told by  _ who?"  _ Jason asks, squinting at Slade. "Who did you talk to about this!?"

Slade looks like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, the most obvious  _ oops _ face Jason's ever seen him wear.

"Your father," Slade admits. "We talked about it. I couldn't just leave him in the dark!"

"You absolutely could have," Jason says. "Absolutely. I know everyone's going to find out before long, but I was hoping we had at least a few days to figure things out before we had to deal with family."

Slade's response is to  _ whistle innocently. _

"Oh no," Jason says. "Who did you tell?"

"Wasn't me," Slade says, holding his palms up. "I am innocent of this."

"That sounds like bullshit to me."

"On my honor," Slade says. "Wasn't me."

Jason narrows his eyes, and Slade sighs.

"Your brother very nearly walked in on you two," Slade says. "Caught it out of the corner of his eye and retreated, then ran off to tell your father."

Jason is going to die. He's going to just drop dead right then and there.

Slade seems to catch onto his mind-bogglingly intense embarrassment, because he wraps an arm around Jason, pulling him close.

"He was going to find out anyway," Slade reminds him. "Just happened a bit sooner than you expected. He's not upset, and you can talk to him about it in the morning."

If he thought he was embarrassed before, he now realizes it was nothing.

"Drink," Slade says, and Jason does, finishing off his glass. "And go to bed. It's late, you're probably exhausted, and I want to go tell my husband that his son is happy so he can stop worrying."

Jason grumbles at that.

"It's not even ten," he protests. "We used to stay up all night."

"You used to be young," Slade says. "You need your beauty sleep now."

Jason rolls his eyes at that, but he does let himself be scooted off to bed.

That night, he lies in bed and struggles to turn his brain off. He wants to sleep. He  _ needs _ to sleep. But in the end all he can do is think about what happened. About Joey. About the things he said, the way his lips felt, the way he tasted.

He lets those thoughts carry him off to sleep more than an hour later.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Please enjoy this piece of (effectively canon) Joey POV smut set after last chapter. ](https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/48750482?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_249284279)
> 
> I also want to note that there _will_ be explicit sexual content in this fic. I tend to weave it into the story in such a way that it has plot relevance, rather than smut for the sake of smut, but I'll warn for any chapters it pops up!

Jason is ready to die from the moment he wakes up. He knows it's coming. He  _ knows _ what his day is going to be like.

His limbs feel like lead as he drags himself out of bed and goes to get ready for the day. He skips homework again (he's pretty sure showing Joey his scars qualifies as a 'get out of homework free' card for at least a month), but does make a point of lingering in his room, checking in with work and dragging his feet before he finally heads to breakfast.

He knows it's going to be an absolute disaster when he gets there (no Joey, which feels like a relief) and everyone turns to look at him all at once.

Fuck.

"We are not talking about it," Jason says as he sits down. "Can we just eat breakfast?"

"Talk about what?" Damian says, trying  _ very _ hard to sell his whole  _ picture of innocence _ thing.

"No dice," Slade says. "I already told him you walked in."

"Oh," Damian says, looking over at Jason. "Then yes, we can just eat breakfast."

Wintergreen, who seems to be the only person who  _ doesn't _ know what's going on, simply raises his eyebrows. Jason pointedly ignores him.

Joey joins them not long after, and Jason refuses to look at him. If he looks at him, he's going to burst into flames, so he simply doesn't.

"What's on the schedule for today?" Wintergreen asks, and Jason hopes the answer is  _ a lot. _

_ I spoke to someone about the interview, _ Bruce says.  _ They say you can come in any time and they'll do it, but they'd prefer it sooner rather than later. Whenever you have free time, basically. _

Jason wants to do it right then, but he also knows it would be a  _ monumentally _ bad idea for him to do it right then. He's not ready. He's not emotionally prepared.

"Maybe early next week," Jason says.

_ That's fine, _ Bruce signs.  _ I'll send the information to your email. _

"Everyone got their membership cards, right?" Damian asks, and Jason swallows down a bite of food before nodding. Damian makes a point of producing his to show it off, looking deeply pleased with the whole thing.

Jason's just happy Damian's adjusting so well to the lack of  _ nightly activities. _

"What else?" Jason asks.

"Your father and I need to deal with some things," Slade says. "We'll be leaving just after breakfast, and we should be back before dinner."

Jason squints at the distinct lack of details in that sentence, but Slade doesn't back down, refusing to volunteer any more information. Jason can only read that as a  _ we'll talk when we get back, _ which tells him that it's  _ probably _ about Thomas.

Or at least Thomas seems the most likely anyway, and Jason's getting increasingly agitated by the lack of updates on that. If it  _ isn't _ about Thomas, he's going to  _ make _ it about Thomas.

"Alright," he says. "We'll talk when you get back."

"If you have nothing to do with your time," Alfred says, "I would welcome some assistance in assuring that a room is prepared for Miss Cain."

Jason's desperate for any excuse to  _ not _ deal with things, so he's more than happy to help. Damian thankfully steals Joey away for 'practice', leaving Jason alone with Alfred, Wintergreen having gone off somewhere to do... something.

Jason has no idea, and he doesn't really mind right then either.

It makes for easy work, helping Alfred get things set up. There's no more room in the family wing, at least temporarily, and refitting the reading room into a bedroom again is going to take more time than they probably have.

"You should speak to him, you know," Alfred says while Jason helps him make the bed, and Jason very nearly trips over his own feet.

"Who?"

Alfred gives him a  _ look, _ and Jason corrects himself.

"I don't think I'm ready for it."

"While I cannot debate that fact, I do think having a sit down conversation sooner rather than later would be ideal," Alfred says flatly.

Jason's face burns.

"I should," he admits. "I just... don't... have much experience. I'm playing it by ear. Seeing how things go."

"I would recommend asking others for guidance," Alfred says. "Seeking the wisdom of your elders, as they say."

"Like you?"

"My romantic experience is not what I would consider worthy of wisdom," Alfred says dryly. "But I will advise you that going slow is better than going fast, in this case. I would also strongly encourage you to make an active choice to trend towards normality."

"...Normality."

"You live together already," Alfred says, the work temporarily on hold. "You also know a great deal about one another. Both of these make for an unusual state of affairs. I think it would do your relationship some good to act as if neither were true. How would you go about this if Joey was, say, someone you met through work?"

Jason's never thought about it, but he's not going to insult Alfred by ignoring his advice, so he tries.

"Go on a... date?" He ventures. "To the movies?"

"There you go," Alfred says. "It would appear you have a good direction to take."

He makes it sound so  _ easy. _ Like he can just walk up and say 'let's go to the movies' and have that be it. His face burns with embarrassment as he glances away, trying to go back to work and move the conversation along.

Mercifully, Alfred lets it go.

They eat lunch as a group, and Jason still can't bring himself to actually  _ look _ at Joey, but he doesn't get much of a choice when, while taking his dishes to the kitchen, Damian ambushes him.

"You should talk to him."

"Damian," Jason says pointedly. "You have literally never dated anyone in your entire life and have absolutely no ground to stand on in this conversation."

"I know you're avoiding it," Damian says pointedly, "and that you're both agitated as a result. You should speak to him."

"It's not that easy."

"Unless you've gone mute in the last five seconds, it is in fact that easy," Damian says, giving him a dirty look. "And if you have, it isn't an issue, as I'm sure you're aware that Joey is fluent in ASL."

Jason gives Damian his very best dirty look, and Damian looks smug in return.

"Fine," he says. "But you're handling my dishes."

He offloads his dishes with Damian before he can protest, and then heads out of the kitchen to go find Joey.

He isn't hard to find. He finds him just leaving the dining room, heading back towards his room, and Jason clears his throat, drawing Joey's attention.

Jason can't even look at him. The moment Joey turns he has to look away, because it's Joey. Joey, the man he kissed. Joey, who's hands... No, he can't think about that. He shakes his head, trying to steel his nerve.

"I was... thinking we should talk about this."

The fact that he has to look at Joey's hands to see his response feels like an act of mercy.

_ Alright, _ Joey signs.  _ I wasn't sure how you were feeling after yesterday. _

"In over my head," Jason admits. "Out of my element."

_ If it helps, this is out of my element as well, _ Joey signs.  _ I'm used to things going very differently. _

Jason's face burns. Of course they go differently. Joey's used to people with experience. He's not used to dating people who might as well be sixteen year olds about to ask their high school crush on a date.

_ That isn't a bad thing, _ Joey signs, reading the tension in his shoulders.  _ Just a new thing. _

"I was going to... I was going to ask if you wanted to... to go on a date. Like... a normal date. Alfred said he thought it might help if we just... went to the movies or something normal like that."

He hopes he says yes. He hopes he says yes because he doesn't know how he'll handle a  _ no. _

_ Sure, _ Joey signs as casually as can be.  _ That sounds good. _

"Maybe tonight?" Jason asks. "After dinner?"

_ Sure, _ Joey signs.  _ I'll pick you up at seven? _

Jason doesn't get it until he risks a glance at Joey's eye, and Joey winks.

Oh, a joke. He goes red, but for a  _ much _ different reason than usual.

"Alright," he says. "After dinner."

That's assuming he doesn't spontaneously drop dead in the next six and a half hours from the stress of the whole thing.


	41. Chapter 41

Jason manages to last through the whole six and a half hours it takes for it to be time for  _ date night.  _ To his intense annoyance, Slade calls around four to let them know they've been held up, and not to wait up for dinner.

They'll be home around seven, he says, which means Jason's going to miss whatever it is he has to say.

The thought of skipping the date never even occurs to him.

He second guesses pretty much every part of the  _ getting ready _ part of things. Is he supposed to wear something nice? Should he drive, or ask Joey if he wants to? Alfred arrives at the exact right moment, talking him through it even though Jason's never actually  _ confirmed _ the date is happening.

He wears a normal shirt, even if it's one of the newer ones he has. He drives, because it's his car and he might as well.

He's surprised when he finds Joey in the entranceway holding something in his hand, and is even more confused when he offers it to him. It takes him only a second (which is embarrassingly long for him) to realize he's being offered an earpiece, and he takes it, popping it in automatically.

"I thought this might be easier," Joey says through the earpiece. "I had Bruce help me set it up for cases like these."

"Oh," Jason says, and then nods. "I guess this... is easier." He knows he should be happy, but the first thing his brain goes to is that if Joey says something  _ really _ embarrassing he no longer has the option of averting his eyes.

Jason's actually not entirely sure how he even makes it through the first hour of the date. They take his car into town and pick a movie (he agrees with the first thing Joey suggests, something they saw the trailer for when they went out for the movie with the Rows), and then head inside. They get good seats, skip concessions since they just eat, and settle in.

Things are going pretty well.

Or at least they're going pretty well until Joey shifts his hand over, laying his over the back of Jason's own almost like they're  _ holding hands _ and Jason's pretty sure he misses everything that happens in the movie for the next thirty minutes, his brain whirling faster than he can possibly keep up.

But eventually his brain runs out of things it can panic about with no stimulus, and something explodes unexpectedly on screen, and he stops thinking about Joey's hand on his and lets himself slip back into the end of the movie.

It isn't until the credits roll that his attention is dragged back to it. Joey gives his hand a little squeeze and Jason's breath catches, but he tells himself he can at  _ least _ manage this, so he flips his hand over and squeezes back.

"How was the movie?" Joey asks as they filter out.

"I think I missed the whole middle," Jason admits. "I was a bit... distracted."

Joey's fingers twine with his, and Jason nearly walks into a wall.

"This was fun," Joey says in his ear, and Jason can  _ feel _ himself blush. He hates that he's so easily riled up, but Joey seems to enjoy it, so he supposes it isn't that bad. He just needs to adjust. Needs to get used to... to this. To the idea that Joey and him are... are dating.

It feels weird even to think it.

Or at least he thinks they're dating. They're on the way back to the car when his brain catches on, and he falters just for a moment.

"Jason?" Joey asks, even as Jason catches himself.

"I'm fine," he blurts. "I was just - this was a date, right?"

Joey stops, turning to him, his eyebrows going up, the surprise obvious.

"Yeah," he says. "I'd say this was a date."

"So we're...?" Jason can't even make himself say it.

_ Dating? _ Joey signs, seeming to fall back on the familiar in the face of uncertainty.

Jason's mouth goes dry, and he nods. He doesn't know what the rules are. For that matter, he doesn't know if the rules are the same as they are in Joey's world. The point where you start dating might be different for all he knows. It's... weird. Strange.

_ I think we should date, _ Joey signs.  _ Exclusively, in case that wasn't obvious. _

The fact that Jason might have needed to specify hadn't even occurred to him, and his face burns as he resists the urge to glance away. It's unfair. The fact that Joey's given him the earpiece has, in a weird way, made it clear to him that it  _ is _ unfair, because Joey's had to go out of his way to account for it in their interactions. Joey can't silence him by closing his eyes, and he shouldn't be able to silence Joey that way either.

"Then... then we're dating," he says. "Officially. Exclusively." Is that too fast? Or is that normal? He fights the urge to pull out his phone and text someone (Amina? Harper? Definitely not Cullen) for advice.

Maybe later.

He opens his mouth to ask something, and then second guesses himself, hoping Joey doesn't notice. He does, because Joey  _ was _ a vigilante and  _ is  _ the son of Deathstroke, and he notices damn well everything.

_ What? _ Joey signs.  _ You were going to ask something? _

"I just..." He takes a breath and reaches up, dragging his fingers instinctively through his own hair. "I realized I don't really know... why... you're doing this. Dating me." He sure as hell knows his own reasons, but Joey? What does Joey see in  _ him? _

Joey looks genuinely surprised by the question.

_ I guess I should have seen this coming, _ Joey signs.  _ You have a lot of positive traits, but positive self-esteem isn't one of them. _

Jason doesn't even wince, because it's the truth. There's no arguing it. He  _ knows _ his self-esteem is shitty, he just disagrees very firmly with how shitty.

_ I guess I could ask you the same question, _ Joey signs, and Jason frowns at that.

"You?" He says. God, he could go on all day about all the good things about Joey. "You just hopped from a totally different dimension to start a new life. That takes... an insane level of bravery. Then you got here, and the first thing you did was drop everything to help us out. Even though you were trying to retire, you didn't hesitate to pull on your suit and play support for us. You did amazing in Santa Prisca, and when you're at home..."

It all comes tumbling out, and Jason's blush finally catches up to him right around the time he stops talking about the fact that Joey's a great  _ team member. _

Even so, he makes himself continue.

"This is... it probably sounds stupid, but you're really good with Damian. He has a hard time with people sometimes, and can be really overwhelming. He really likes you though, and you're just..."

The embarrassment of saying it out loud is melting his brain, his cheeks burning hotter and hotter until he can't keep going, sputtering out less than halfway through.

Joey's smiling when he risks a glance up at his face.

_ I don't think I'm particularly brave, _ he signs.  _ I'm here because I ran away. I couldn't stand the thought of dealing with my life any more, so I ran to a whole other dimension in the hopes that things would be better. Bravery is facing your challenges head on, like you do. The fact that we're even on this date, when it was obviously difficult for you... _

Jason has to  _ fight _ not to avert his eyes, because it's unfair to Joey if he does it. So he keeps his eyes locked on Joey's hands, watching each gesture even as his face burns with more and more embarrassment.

_ You were so welcoming to me, _ Joey signs.  _ I think most people would have seen me as a threat, but instead you practically tripped over yourself to make me feel welcome. The first few days were very hard for me, but you made sure I wasn't alone in a very dark time. _

Nope, he's not strong enough for this. Jason can't help himself, turning his head as he takes a second to recover, burying his face in his hands.

"You're a good person," Joey says in his ear, and he can hear Joey approaching him as he goes still. Joey reaches out, taking one of Jason's hands in his own, and gives it a squeeze. "I know you don't often believe that, but it's true."

When Joey kisses him again, it's not like the first time. This isn't something passionate and involved. This one is soft, little more then a peck on the cheek, and it makes Jason's eyes water at the  _ meaning _ behind it.

"I had fun," Joey says. "But I think it's probably time to get home."

It isn't that late, but Jason wants to be home anyway. He's exhausted even after so little time out, and while he takes a few minutes before he gets in the car to compose himself, he feels a lot better when he finally does.

It maybe wasn't the first date he'd seen in movies, but it was still good.


	42. Chapter 42

Jason feels strangely relaxed by the time they get back to the house. It's just... normal. Nothing went wrong. Nothing exploded. Hell, he even  _ enjoyed _ it, which was better than Bruce and Slade did on  _ their _ first date, so as far as he's concerned they did pretty well.

That said, coming home to find Damian sitting on a chair in the entranceway reading a book with Titus at his feet is  _ not _ what he wants to find.

Damian glances up, squinting at him for a moment, and then twists his head around.

"They're home!" He bellows, setting his book down as he straightens up, scrutinizing the pair of them.

"Please don't make a big deal of this," Jason says. "We went to the movies. Nothing weird happened. No one died, or got stabbed, or anything like that."

"They had better not have," Damian says. "I would be upset if something had happened the first time you left the house since your trip."

"I went over to the Kent's," Jason counters.

"That hardly counts," Damian says. "Their house is practically out house. You know what I mean."

"Jason?" Slade asks, popping his head around the corner. "Damian, stop hassling your brother."

"It is my job to hassle him," Damian says. "Someone must ensure that things went well."

_ Things went well, _ Joey signs.  _ Can I take my shoes off now? _

Damian backs off, and Jason pulls his jacket off, hanging it up himself.

"It went well, nothing went wrong, and I want to know what it was we were going to talk about," Jason says, looking pointedly as Slade. His face goes all pinched—like he was hoping Jason would forget—but he seems resigned to the fact that he's going to have to deal with the situation.

"Alright," he says. "I'll grab your father and we can sit down together in the living room."

"He hasn't told us yet," Damian says as Slade leaves. "He said we should wait for you."

For him. Not for  _ them. _ Joey doesn't factor into things, which means it's almost definitely Thomas, the one he's more likely to be affected by. He braces himself, shifting his mindset to be ready for it, and then heads into the living room.

_ Everything went well?  _ Bruce signs at them, and Joey signs right back at him.

_ The movie was good, _ Joey signs.  _ We talked a bit after, and then came home. Pretty standard first date. _

_ That's good, _ Bruce signs.  _ I thought you'd be just fine, but I was still worried. _

"Pretty sure it's your job to worry," Slade says.

"So?" Jason says. "What kept you away all day?"

Bruce and Slade exchange a look, and then Slade folds his arms over his chest.

"For one, we dealt with the Waller situation. To say the least, there was a lot of infighting over the fact that Task Force X was still functioning. Some people knew, some people didn't, everyone's pointing fingers. Waller's been...  _ reassigned-" _

"Reassigned? Not  _ fired?" _ Jason says.

"Reassigned," Slade says. "No one's ever going to fire Waller. She knows where the proverbial bodies are buried... and probably the literal ones too. The damage she could do to everyone, including us, is obscene. Even if stuff was covered up, it's not like Deathstroke was ever  _ officially _ pardoned. The case was just closed. If Waller says I'm Deathstroke, it'll make trouble even if I probably won't go to jail for it."

Goddamn Waller. Jason's never liked her (he can't imagine anyone does), and the whole thing leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

_ What about the team members? _ Joey signs. _ Rose? _

"Back in Belle Reve," Slade says. "Except Rose. Bruce has taken personal offense to the whole thing and is insisting she be transferred to Blackgate."

"Waller's recruited from Blackgate before," Jason points out.

"We know the warden," Slade says. "We'll also be keeping an eye on it. I think it's more a matter of  _ when, _ not  _ if _ she'll restart Task Force X, so my focus is more on keeping her from doing so with... with Rose on the team."

Jason can't miss that Slade has to  _ make _ himself say the name. He's sure Joey sees it too. Slade still has issues with Rose, and Jason's not sure Slade's ever really forgiven her for hurting the two people he cared about most in the world at that point.

"Thomas?" Jason asks.

_ Getting right to the point, _ Bruce says with a shake of his head.  _ Yes, Thomas was the other thing we talked about. There's going to be a press conference about the matter tomorrow. He's going to be identified as a vigilante, unrelated to Batman and his associates. Eventually, people will figure out who he killed, but for now they're trying to keep it quiet. _

"But what about Thomas?" Jason asks, his stomach flipping. None of this answers his question. None of this tells him what's happening.

Bruce reaches up, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, and Jason knows that means he doesn't want to say it. Slade does instead, clearing his throat and turning to face Jason properly.

"He took a plea deal last week, like we told you," Slade says. "He'll be in medium security at Blackgate. He's been there for two days already, he's settled in, and we'll be able to visit him sometime next week."

It's all the details he needs except one. The big one. His mouth feels dry.

"How long?"

He knows the answer. He knows it because Bruce made  _ sure _ he knew all about criminal justice before he let him become a Robin. He knows what the sentencing is like. Thomas can't claim self defense (or defense of others) when he actively put himself in that situation. Especially not when the whole situation could have been easily solved non-lethally.

If Thomas had just shot her in the leg, none of it would have happened.

_ Officially, ten years, _ Bruce signs.  _ Realistically, he'll be out in seven or eight. _

Ten years. Even seven. He'll be in his thirties. Damian will be twenty. Jackson... Jackson will be, in a best case scenario... what, ten? Eleven years old?

Jason buries his face in his hands.

"I spoke to Thomas today," Slade says. "Your father obviously couldn't. He's doing well. He's adjusting. I think he... likes the structure that prison represents. He's having an easier time adjusting there then he was to civilian life."

Jason feels himself deflate. He's doing... alright. Maybe better than he was outside. Thomas needs time to adjust and seven years (maybe eight, maybe more) feels like it's killing him, but there's not another option. The decision that was made the moment Thomas pulled the trigger and killed Harley Quinn.

He makes himself take a deep breath, and he feels a hand on his back. He doesn't know whose it is, but he appreciates it anyway.

"Alright," he says, sitting up and glancing to find Alfred's the one beside him. "Okay. We can handle that. We can still visit?"

"And write," Slade says. "I imagine Thomas is the kind of guy who would appreciate a letter every so often."

_ I was thinking we could make it a weekly thing, _ Bruce signs.  _ Going to visit him and Rose, if that's what you all want. _

_ I'd like to visit Rose, _ Joey signs.  _ Maybe not right away, but I would still like to try. _

Rose doesn't have anyone, and Jason... Jason doesn't know how he feels about her either. It's possible she'll reject Joey entirely.

At least for him, he's more focused on Thomas right then.

"I want to visit him as well," Damian says. "Thomas, that is."

"I'll set it up," Slade says.

"Add it to the list of things we need to do," Damian says. "Like-"

"Visiting batcow," Jason interrupts. "We know." He reaches out to ruffle Damian's hair, but Damian dodges out of the way with a huff.

"Bruce has surgery in the morning," Slade says. "You can all stay at home-"

"Oh no," Jason says. "You think I'm not coming to the hospital with you?"

_ Some people might prefer to stay at home, _ Bruce signs.

_ I'm fine with coming along, _ Joey signs right back, and Bruce huffs in response. He obviously doesn't want to make a big deal of it, but he doesn't get a goddamn choice.

"I will bring Master Damian," Alfred says. "If Mister Wintergreen will watch the house...?"

"Of course," Wintergreen says. "Happy to help. I'll keep the television warm for you."

He winks, and Slade rolls his eye.

"Alright," Jason says. "If that's everything, I kind of want to go to bed." It's a lot to process, and he just wants... some quiet, he guesses. He wants to sit down and just  _ process _ it. Just think it through.

"Nothing else," Slade says. "You want to talk, or...?"

"I actually do want to sleep," Jason says with a huff. "This isn't a backdoor way to say I want to have a conversation with either parent."

"Bed then," Slade says. "Someone in particular needs more sleep than he would otherwise."

_ What are you talking about? _ Bruce signs.  _ I'm going to get an extra few hours of sleep in surgery tomorrow. _

Jason very nearly makes it back to his room before he hears someone tap the wall, and he glances over his shoulder to spot Joey.

_ We never got to talk after we got home, _ he signs, and Jason swallows before turning to face him properly.  _ I had fun. Maybe we could do it again sometime? _

It feels so casual that it throws Jason off, but when he has a moment to think about it, he decides he prefers it that way. Just... casual. Normal. Like they're normal people and this was a normal date.

"I... I'd like that," he says. "This was nice."

Joey reaches out, and Jason's pretty sure his heart stops beating as Joey takes his hand, giving it a little squeeze. Shit. He does what he can to recover from how flustered he feels, squeezing Joey's hand with his own.

He knows how it's supposed to go. He knows how a date is  _ supposed _ to end. His stomach flips as he leans forward, giving Joey a peck on the cheek, his nerves going into overdrive.

He's worried it's not enough. He's worried Joey wants something more like their first kiss. Something...  _ passionate. _

But when he looks Joey's smiling, and he lets himself relax. He's not angry. He's not upset.

Joey lets go of his hand, raising them up to sign.

_ Goodnight Jason. _


	43. Chapter 43

The following morning, Bruce makes a big show of how unimportant the day is and how they totally  _ don't _ need to come along, and then is prompt overruled by literally everyone. There's no question in Jason's mind (or in anyone else's) where they're going to be spending the duration of Bruce's surgery, and the answer is  _ as close to him as possible. _

Which turns out to be a waiting room in the hospital. It's semi-private, with two other families and a long young man who are also waiting to hear the results of the loved ones surgeries, and Jason and everyone else make a point of keeping to themselves to avoid being too distracting.

Damian's brought sketchbooks and pencils, which he hands out to Joey and Jason to give them something to do as if their phones aren't enough.

"Draw things," he says. "Whatever you see. Things. People. It's good practice."

He gives Joey a particularly pointed look.

"You should draw Jason," he says, "since you never draw him."

He then sets himself to drawing Alfred, making a show of ignoring the two of them.

Jason's face is hot, and he wishes, not for the first time, that he could just make it through a whole day without dying of embarrassment. 

"You can draw whatever," Jason says quietly. "You don't have to listen to him."

But it does sort of bother him. Not the idea of Joey drawing him (he's not sure how he feels about that), but instead the idea that Joey specifically  _ doesn't _ draw him. That he draws everyone  _ but _ him.

He does his best to ignore it as he works on drawing a particularly boring set of artificial flowers on a side table in the room, but as the minutes tick by it weighs on him bit by bit, getting heavier and heavier until he cracks.

"Joey," he says quietly, glancing over to him. "Do you really just... not draw me?"

He can't exactly blame him for it, but it still  _ hurts. _

_ I do, _ Joey signs, which firmly derails Jason's entire line of thought before it can even get started.

"What?" He says, eyebrows furrowing. "But I didn't-"

_ I keep them in a different sketchbook, _ Joey signs.  _ They're different than most of my quicker sketches. _

Oh. Jason's face goes even redder, and he fights the urge to ask what  _ exactly _ makes them different.

Not right then. Not in public. Maybe later.

The surgery takes two hours, at which point the lead surgeon arrives, pulling his mask down as he heads over to them. No point in calling out Bruce's name, considering there's absolutely no question of who they are or anything like that.

"So?" Slade asks, a bundle of nervous energy.

"Everything went well," he says. "I think I've managed to minimize both the scarring and the side effects."

"No scar?" Damian asks.

"He's going to scar," the surgeon says with a shake of his head. "Unavoidable on such a sensitive place. Probably like this." He reaches up, miming where Bruce was cut, a shallow curve that runs across his cheek. "You can expect it to be thin but noticeable. More importantly, there was damage to the muscles of the face itself. Putting it into simple terms, you can expect for his smiles to be lopsided on the injured side even once he's fully healed."

"Any issues eating?" Slade asks.

"To start," the surgeon confirms. "Keep him from using it too heavily to start, but the bandaging shouldn't need to stay on too much longer. There's not much of an incision, and..." He surveys the group. "...I'm sure you've seen much worse injuries."

He explains that the stitches are internal and shows them some pictures, and then briefs them on proper wound care (as if they don't already know) and instructs them to keep Bruce from doing anything stupid. From the lecture, Jason gets the distinct impression that the surgeon has worked on Bruce before, if only because he seems particularly familiar with him.

"When do I get him back, exactly?" Slade asks.

"Give him another hour for the anesthesia to wear off," the man explains. "Then we'll bring you up in ones and twos. When he can walk on his own, he'll be able to go home. Shouldn't take more than two hours."

Most of them—Slade stays behind just in case—go out for lunch, visiting a Chinese buffet just down the street from the hospital. They get a few looks (Jason's sure they recognize them), but no one approaches them, which he's thankful for.

It's a relief when they get back to find out Slade's already gone up to check on Bruce, and less than thirty minutes later Slade arrives back down, looking amused.

"He's already up," Slade says. "Nurse was saying she's never seen someone come out of sedation as fast as he has. They're just clearing him, and then they'll wheel him down for us to take him to the car. Told them I could carry him if needed and he shot me a dirty look."

Even if they've been told everything's fine, Jason still breathes a sigh of relief when Bruce, the entire side of his face covered in bandages, arrives down where they're waiting.

_ Take me home, _ he signs,  _ before they try and feed me hospital food. _

It's clearly a joke, but he looks miserable as Slade loads him into the car.

"Doesn't like being sedated," Jason explains to Joey when he asks. "None of us do, I don't think, but Bruce really hates it. I think he'd rather have just gone in with local freezing or something."

"The doctors would have thrown a fit," Slade says. "That's some damned precise repair work they did, and there's no way they'd have been able to do it without him out cold."

Wintergreen has news for them when they get back to the house.

"One of Dick's proteges showed up while you were gone," he says as Slade carries Bruce off to bed to sleep off the rest of the sedation. "When I told him you weren't here, he said he'd stop by later."

"Do you know which one?" Jason asks. "Or what they wanted?"

Wintergreen offers only a shrug.

"Couldn't tell them apart if my life depended on it," he says. "I'm sure he'll be back, and he said it wasn't important."

Dick's protege doesn't come back that night, and at least for the moment, Jason forgets it, distracted by something else: Joey's sketches.

"So," he says just after dinner. "You really drew me?"

_ You make a good model, _ Joey signs.  _ You have very intense expressions. _

That is... a thing. Jason doesn't know if it's a compliment or an insult and eventually settles on neither, but nods just the same. He wants to ask. He wants to ask and to  _ see, _ but it feels... private. Even if the sketches are supposedly of him, it still feels like something just for Joey, so he's relieved when Joey simply offers.

"I mean," Jason says, "if you don't mind."

_ They're of you, _ Joey signs.  _ A model has the right to see the work they inspired. _

Joey's room feels different from the last time he saw it. He wants to chalk it up to  _ we're dating, of course it's different, _ but really it's simply the fact that it looks more lived in. The sheets are different, the blind's been pulled all the way up to let in more light, and Joey's suitcase is sitting in the bottom of the closet. Most noticeably, there're a number of photos (mostly of his family) sitting on the nightstand and running across the top of the dresser.

Joey retrieves a sketchbook from the top drawer, holding it out for Jason.

It looks... pretty much identical to the last sketchbook he saw him with. From the outside, there's nothing distinct about it, and it occurs to Jason that he's probably seen him with it plenty of times without realizing what it was.

The  _ Jason  _ sketchbook.

He can't stop himself from feeling anxious as he flips it open, but the first page is... mild.

It's just a sketch of him sitting at what looks like the dining room table. He's talking to someone, his mouth open, caught mid-word. It looks perfectly normal, although the artistic talent is clear, and Jason flips to the next page as he tries not to overanalyze things.

The majority of the book is just that: normal. Each page is a new sketch of Jason doing something else. Some of them he remembers Joey sketching during, but others appear to have been pulled purely from his memory. He  _ knows _ Joey didn't have a sketchbook on him when Jason first met the clones, but there he is, standing in front of five identical figures.

What interests him most is the fact that he's the only figure with any real detail. The others are loose impressions at best, where he gets all the details.

There's one of him standing in front of a figure that must be Bane simply from size alone, his face set in a stubborn expression. And then...

Sketches. Not sketches like the rest of the book, finely handled and effectively finished pieces of art, but what Jason thinks of as  _ real _ sketches. Unfinished, hasty pieces of work.

Of him. Of him in swim trunks, down by the pool. Each sketch has a different set of heavy scarring, completely unique and obviously unfinished. Different poses and different scars, scenes that didn't happen and never could. Joey seems to realize what he's looking at, reaching forward to take the sketchbook back. He looks embarrassed. Mortified, even.

_ Sorry, _ Joey signs, tucking the sketchbook under his arm.  _ I forgot I did those. I was just... trying to figure out what I might be dealing with. _

With his scars. He'd been trying to figure out what kind of scars he had.

"And they were worse," Jason says. "Worse than-"

_ No, _ Joey signs, and he flips open the sketchbook, rapidly flipping through the pages until he finds the page he's looking for. It must be just a few pages past where Jason stopped, but this one is finished. Jason, in his swim trunks, but covered in scars.

Scars even worse than Jason's own. Thick patches of scar tissue from burns and other, more intensive damage. Scars that cover almost his entire body, leaving almost no skin behind.

_ This is what I came up with, _ Joey signs, setting the book down.  _ I thought they'd have to be pretty extreme, and I wanted to brace myself for how bad they might be, so I didn't... upset you with my reaction. _

So he didn't get sick. So he didn't... what, vomit?

But a second thought comes to Jason's mind, entirely unbidden: the fact that Joey was interested in him expecting  _ these _ scars, even worse than Jason's own.

"You'd have..." He says, taking a deep breath. "You wanted to date me even thinking I had... that I was like this?"

_ Like I said before, _ Joey signs,  _ scars are proof you survived. Even with that amount of scarring, you'd still be an attractive guy. _

Jason doesn't even know how to respond to that. It feels so... so fake. How could anyone be attracted to  _ that? _ To him?

_ It's not a fetish, if that's what you're worried about, _ Joey signs.  _ I just don't mind them. I'm more attracted to what's going on in your head, but if I was going to have to pick a physical attribute, it'd probably be your arms. _

Jason's brain screeches to a halt.

"My  _ arms?" _

His arms also have scars, so he has no idea what Joey's talking about.

_ Have you seen yourself flex? _ Joey signs.  _ When we sparred that one time and I grabbed your arm I almost lost the fight swooning. _

_ "What?" _ Jason asks, twisting his head to look down at his won arm as if expecting... something. Something more than his usual arm.

He glances back to Joey, who rolls his eyes.

_ Flex. _

Jason does, and Joey reaches forward, squeezing his bicep with obvious enthusiasm.

_ Like a rock, _ Joey signs.  _ You're crazy fit.  _

"I mean..." Jason says, allowing his eyes to sweep up and down Joey in search of a response. "You're not exactly a noodle yourself."

Because he's not. Jason hasn't really allowed himself to look (why look at what you can't have?), but the fact of the matter is that Joey  _ is _ fit. He's fit in the way that you get from working out more at a gym than from sparring regularly, but he's absolutely no slouch, and it's... it's a good look on him, if Jason is willing to admit it to himself.

_ Need to get back in the habit of working out, _ Joey signs.  _ I had a few moments where I came out of retirement, but for the most part it's just been using my powers rather than getting dirty. Sparring feels nice, honestly. _

"We could always spar," Jason blurts, and Joey shoots him a sneaky grin.

_ I'd like that, _ he signs.  _ Maybe tomorrow? _

"Sure," Jason says. "I'll... show you a few moves."

Assuming he doesn't die from the very idea of  _ wrestling with Joey _ before he gets to that point, anyway.


	44. Chapter 44

For the first time in what feels like years, Jason realizes that he _ forgot therapy. _ He's not late or anything, but usually he goes to bed Saturday morning with it in the back of his mind, and wakes thinking about what he wants (or needs) to talk about. Instead, he makes it all the way through his morning shower before he glances at the mirror and his brain screams _ you forgot! _at him, and he realizes that oops, maybe he did forget.

Well, crap.

Joey has apparently _ not _ forgotten, because he's there at breakfast, already ready to go.

Bruce is there as well, looking absolutely miserable as he consumes his breakfast through a straw while Slade keeps an eye on him, but Damian's still in bed, which strikes Jason as odd.

"Damian?"

"Nightmare," Slade says. "Was up all night, so I expect he'll miss breakfast."

"Oh dear," Alfred says. "I'll be sure to have something prepared for him when he wakes."

"Did anyone tell Thomas's therapist...?" Jason asks, glancing between Bruce and Slade. Bruce offers a grunt, which Slade interprets on his behalf.

"Bruce handled that all last week when he called to let them know you were on vacation."

One less thing for them to worry about, Jason supposes.

It's not until he's driven all the way to his appointment, said his goodbyes to Joey, and got his hand on the doorknob that he realizes what _ else _ he's forgotten: Lonnie.

Lonnie Machin. The receptionist at his therapist's office who he's been dealing with for _ years, _ and who also happens to be the terrorist Anarky.

Or former terrorist, at least in theory.

Truthfully, Jason hasn't given him much thought. At the _ time _ he thought about it, but with everything that happened, his thoughts about Lonnie's identity had fallen off his mental desk into the recycling bin and been completely forgotten. He supposes there's no time like the present, so he pulls open the door and heads inside.

Lonnie's there (because of course he is), sitting at his desk and looking perfectly normal. He glances up, quickly looks back to the computer, and Jason realizes that he's _ nervous. _

Nervous to deal with him.

Okay, he can deal with that. But at the same time, he's not really willing to beat around the bush, either.

"So," he says. "...Thanks for the tip."

Lonnie's practically squirming in his seat, and Jason feels a pang of pity for him.

"...Full disclosure, I know who you are," Jason says, trying to avoid any possible ambiguity.

"I figured," Lonnie says. "Your friend made that pretty clear."

Oh right. He'd forgotten he'd gotten Joey to shake them down.

"So..." Jason says, trying to figure out how to eloquently cover _ you used to be a terrorist _ without actually saying _ you used to be a terrorist. _"How did you end up finding out about that, anyway?"

"Knew a guy who knew a guy," Lonnie says automatically, sounding defensive. "I still keep in contact with some people."

Alright, the conversation isn't exactly going great, and Jason tries his best to... reset it.

"Listen," he says. "I'm not here to ream you out or grill you or anything like that. You saved a lot of lives tipping us off, and if you need anything, just let us know, alright?"

That seems to help things a bit, and he watches as some of the tension eases out of Lonnie's shoulders.

"Yeah," he says. "Don't think I did all that much, but-"

He stops as the door opens, and Hudson peeks out, glancing between the two of them before grinning and leaning up against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest.

"So," Hudson says. "Having the talk, are we?"

Wait a second.

"Hold on," Jason says, trying not to jump to conclusions. "How long have you known?"

"About who Lonnie was? Since I hired him. When your father came in to use our bathroom, I made sure Lonnie was out of sight."

"Probably for the better," Lonnie grumbles. "Jason and I have _ a dynamic. _ The only dynamic I have with his dad is that he once punched me in the face and got me sent to jail."

It takes Jason a hot second to realize Lonnie's talking about _ Bruce _ rather than _ Slade, _ which makes a hell of a lot more sense.

"For what it's worth," Jason says, "he didn't really have anything all that bad to say about you. Mostly just told us who you were and said he thought you might hold a grudge. Dick pointed out it was a long time to hold a grudge, and then... well, you saw what happened after."

"You sent someone in to shake him down and confirm the source," Hudson says, and Jason winces.

"Yeah," he admits.

"Who was that, exactly?" Hudson asks. "Or did you want me to guess?"

Oh boy.

"Might be time to start the session," Jason says. "They're not going public at least."

"Oh, right," Lonnie says, waving him in. "Have fun with that."

"Let me guess," is the first thing Hudson says once the door's closed. "The man in white is Joey?"

"Yeah," Jason confirms. "He has therapy with someone else the next building over, so we carpool."

"He seemed like quite the person," Hudson says with a snort as he sinks into his chair. "And considering everything that's happened since I made my house call, I can only imagine the story I'm about to hear."

God, where does he even _ start? _ So much has happened since he last had therapy. They went public, which would be enough for _ multiple _ whole sessions by itself, the clones, Bane, Rose, Joey, Bruce's surgery...

"How about this," Hudson says. "We go person to person."

Jason can see the logic to it. His relationships are a huge part of who he is, and keeping Hudson appraised of what's happening with each of them and his reactions to them is probably for the best.

"Alright," Jason says as he stretches out in his own seat. "Where do you want to start?"

"Your father?" Hudson asks, watching his face.

"He got hurt," Jason says. "Which - sorry, I forgot, I told you about that."

"I understand he went in for surgery?"

Jason reaches up, running his thumb to indicate where Bruce's scar will be.

"They tried to minimize the damage," he says. "But he's going to have a scar, and he'll have issues with muscle control there for... maybe ever."

"Not to play into the cliche," Hudson says with a snort. "But how are you taking that?"

Jason doesn't _ get _ the question. Not really. So he raises an eyebrow and offers a shrug.

"Uh... upset he was hurt?" He says.

Hudson looks to be considering something, but he doesn't push.

"Your dad?"

"Hovering over Bruce like the world's most intimidating mother hen," Jason says. "I think of all of us, he's taking this the best. Probably because... well, he already retired once."

"Your brothers?"

Jason shifts in his seat.

"Damian had nightmares last night," Jason says. "He's never known a life where he wasn't a vigilante or something much, much worse. He'll... have a hard time adjusting. Tim's just fine and Dick is... Well, he can't really be police anymore."

Hudson nods, and Jason wonders how much he's really _ getting _ out of what little Jason's saying. Probably a lot. Hudson knows the family dynamic, and the things he's not saying are probably telling him as much as the things he is.

"Alfred?"

"He's getting along with - ah, we have a guest, I don't know if you saw him. Wintergreen. They're like two peas in a pod. I think he'll be upset when Wintergreen finally goes."

"And Joey?" Hudson asks, and Jason goes red. Hudson just looks at his face and smiles, clearly amused by the reaction. "I meant that as a casual check in, but I have a feeling that's something we'll have to dig into. Shall we shelve it for the moment?"

Jason nods, eager to push it off, and he can _ see _ Hudson mentally shuffling through the list of people he needs to ask about before deciding to change tactics.

"So," he says. "I saw the press conference."

The one Jason refused to watch and everyone else was polite enough not to mention. He's sure most of them watched what Gordon had to say before they left for the hospital, but Jason couldn't bring himself to join them.

"How are you feeling?" Hudson asks, and Jason can only shrug.

"Like I should have done better." He knows better than to try and lie to Hudson. If he really doesn't want to talk about something, he can say it, but _ lying _ is the fastest way to spoil a session. "If I had... I don't know. If I had found a way to reach him, maybe he wouldn't have done it. Now he's going to be in jail for years instead."

"It's unfortunate that things played out the way they did," Hudson agrees. "But you are not his therapist, Jason. You aren't responsible for fixing him. One could argue an obligation to help people you consider family and friends with their troubles, but let's be clear: that was what you were doing. You're not a miracle worker. I doubt the world's greatest therapist would have been able to affect such major change in someone so quickly. Thomas had troubles of his own, and it's not _ your _ failing that you weren't able to solve all of his issues in less than two weeks."

Jason almost corrects Hudson before realizing that he's right. He only knew Thomas for less than two weeks. He and Joey haven't even been in their world for a whole month. It feels like so much longer, and he lets himself sag into his seat as the realization hits him.

Maybe it's stupid, but the idea that it was only two weeks helps. No one could have expected Thomas to overcome all of his issues in so short a time. It's an unreasonable demand, and Hudson has made it clear how he should deal with those.

"So," Hudson says pointedly, moving the conversation along, "I hear you went on vacation."

"To Santa Prisca," Jason admits, and Hudson _ hmmms _ in a manner that Jason can't read as anything other than disapproving. "You told me back when we started that you'd never be disappointed with me, but I might be stretching that a bit."

"Because you chose to go to a country on the verge of civil war for a summer vacation... a country where-"

Hudson stops mid-sentence, scrutinizing Jason for a moment.

"...You were returning the bear."

"That was... yeah," he admits. "That was a big part of it. Bane- knowing that he- it helped, you know?"

He's struggling to put it into words, but he knows that it did. It _ helped _ knowing that not everyone who'd hurt him was an irredeemable source of evil. That they were, for the most part, human. Even that one of them was _ sorry. _

It had helped center him. It had helped him calm down in a situation that was beyond what he was prepared for.

"You may be surprised to learn, but I am not, in fact, disappointed," Hudson says. "While I think there are better ways you could have handled it, I can understand your reasoning for it, and I can't fault you for it. Bane's apology was important to you. I think, more than anything that's happened in the past month, it was a major step forward in your recovery. A... milestone, if you will. Returning the bear was accepting that. Bane's apology was something someone did to _ you. _ Returning the bear was something you did to _ others. _ It makes you an active part of it."

Jason feels himself relax word after word. A milestone. A step forward.

"Plus, I have the benefit of hindsight," Hudson says with a small smile. "I can safely assume that everything went well for you, no one was seriously hurt, and we can celebrate it as a milestone in your recovery rather than an incredibly stupid thing a tourist did."

"He accepted it," Jason says. "He took me to meet his family and show me the life he'd started. He... if his wife has a son, he asked if he could name him after me, and I said he could."

Hudson smiles even more at that, and Jason feels himself relax. He's not supposed to seek Hudson's approval (that's not what therapy is _ for), _ but it's hard not too anyway. Hudson's one of the most rational people Jason knows, but he's also one of the most _ normal. _ Compared to the rest of his family and their friends, mired in a life of superheroics, Hudson's perspective is something very, very different.

"Then I'll consider it a success," Hudson says. "And will, since I'm sure you're going to do it anyway, encourage you to use your communication with him as an extension of your therapy. Be mindful of the things he's saying, as well as the things _ you're _ saying. Reflect on them. While I understand you may be excited to finally receive that kind of apology, it's important not to jump into things too quickly. So... be aware."

Be cautious, in other words. An apology is not necessarily genuine, even if Jason feels like it is.

"Which I believe," Hudson says pointedly, "brings us to Joey."

Oh. Jason's cheeks go pink, and Hudson gives him a knowing look.

"He... we-" Jason splutters, trying to figure out where he's even supposed to _ start. _ "We're... dating, I think?"

Hudson's eyebrows shoot up and stay there.

"Dating," he says.

"I... think.. I think that I like him. When Dick and Tim were over they warned me that Joey was giving me _ looks _ like he was interested, and I joked with him about it and he just... he said that yeah, he was. Then we kind of... stumbled through things. We went on a date. Just to the movies, but it was... it was nice."

"This is a lot to unpack," Hudson says, "and I have to admit that even I am not sure where to start."

"You and me both," Jason mutters under his breath.

"Alright, from the top," Hudson says after he's taken a moment to think things through. "You are attracted to him. You like him as a friend. Now you're exploring the possib-"

"Hold on," Jason interrupts, leaning forward in his seat. "How do you know I'm attracted to him?"

"The way you speak about him, mostly," Hudson says. "The first time you described him was... quite telling, although I got the impression you weren't quite aware of what you were doing."

If Jason thought he was red before, it's nothing compared to his face right then.

"I _ described him in a way that was telling?" _ Jason asks. "What does that even mean?"

"When you describe people you tend to be very direct. When you described Thomas, you told me his height, hair color, approximate age, build..."

Jason is getting redder by the second as he tries to remember how he described _ Joey. _

"The impression I got of Joey was of a _ very _ attractive young man from your point of view, which felt like a very sharp contrast to the way described everyone else. Every time you've spoken about Joey, you tend to be more relaxed as well."

Jason's going to die. The whole idea—that he's been _ accidentally signalling his attraction to Joey and Hudson's been picking it up the whole time— _is killing him.

"It isn't a bad thing," Hudson adds. "Just a thing I've noticed over time. It's the first time I've seen it with you, and I think that as long as you address this slowly and carefully, I don't see any reason why I should discourage this."

It's not getting Hudson's blessing because Hudson is never going to _ give _ his blessing, but he isn't telling him to back off either, and that's all Jason needs to hear as he lets himself relax.

"Which does leave us with our last point of the day," Hudson says. "Your homework?"

Oh right.

"I... sort of did it?" Jason says. "I thought it would be better to... do bits and pieces. So I did one while I was on vacation. Then I planned to do more, but things got busy..."

"And you put it off."

"And... I did something else. Something... similar. So I thought that would count."

Hudson gives him an appraising look, and Jason takes a deep breath.

"I didn't - I didn't want to trick Joey. I didn't want to say we could date and then have him find out how... how bad it is. So I showed him my back." He can't even remember if he'd ended up showing him his front. Maybe? He must have seen it. The whole thing feels like a great big teary blur to him. "He... he said he'd thought it would be worse, when I asked later. He said he didn't mind. I felt like that was a big step, so it could count in place of my homework."

Hudson doesn't reply right away, clearly thinking it all through, but finally nods.

"I'll take that as an excuse," he says. "But you're not getting out of it. All this means if I want you to do it for _ next _ week."

Jason wants to insist he _ hadn't _ been trying to get out of it, but he can't deny that his stomach sinks when Hudson says he still has to do it. There's no escaping it, and Hudson will make sure of it.

He can only make progress by pushing against his own limitations, and this is one of them.

"Thanks," Jason says. "This was... a lot, but it was... it was good to talk to you again."

"Hopefully we have a more consistent schedule again," Hudson says. "Maybe take this week slow. You've gone through a lot."

"That's the plan," Jason says. "But you know how things are."

Hudson laughs at that, because he _ does _ know how things are. He's been Jason's therapist for too long to _ not _ know the way that being a Wilson-Wayne tends to complicate things.


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning for slight sexual content.

He says a polite goodbye to Lonnie on his way out, meeting Joey by the car.

"Everything go alright?" He asks as he slides into the driver's seat, glancing to Joey before starting the car.

_ Just fine, _ Joey signs.  _ But I'm starving. _

They make it home just in time to watch Bruce sip his way through lunch, looking increasingly annoyed as the meal goes on.

"Oh," Slade says as if he's just remembered something. "I called Dick."

"And?" Damian asks, scrutinizing Slade as if expecting that he'll be able to guess what he's going to say.

"Says he didn't have any messages to pass on or anything like that, and my phone call was the first time he'd heard of any of his people coming down to Gotham. He said he'd ask them and see if any of them are going to fess up."

"Something we should be worried about?" Jason asks, eyebrows furrowing.

"Maybe," Slade says, "but I doubt it. Could just be a misunderstanding. Might have just wanted to check in and make sure Bruce was alright or something like that."

"I assume you checked security already?" Wintergreen asks, and Slade grunts.

"Checked," he says. "Unclear. Didn't get a good shot of them. I'm going to add some more cameras to the front gate to fix the issue in the future."

"Can't believe you two have let security slip," Jason says with mock shock.

Bruce grunts aggressively at him and finishes up his shake.

"Well, since you're such an expert," Slade says slyly, "you can help set up cameras this afternoon."

"No can do," Jason says quickly, eager to get out of what promises to be an excruciatingly boring chore of meticulously testing each camera for blind spots. "Promised Joey I'd spar with him. Wouldn't want to get rusty." He winks, and Slade rolls his eye.

"Looks like it's on you to help me out, kiddo," Slade says, and Damian lets out a groan. There's no reason Wintergreen couldn't help, but it's clear Slade's trying to make it a bonding experience. Considering Damian's nightmare the night before, Jason thinks it's a pretty good idea.

"I'll be making a trip to the store while everyone else is busy," Alfred says. "If you need anything picked up, please make sure it's written on the list before I leave."

_ So, _ Joey signs as they clear the table.  _ Sparring? _

"Sparring," Jason confirms. "I'll meet you downstairs?"

Joey nods, and Jason heads to his room to change. He's got things just for sparring, but he picks something a bit looser instead. It's not going to be serious with it, and if he goes in putting his full power behind it, the whole thing is going to be over before it starts.

He doesn't want it to be. Maybe it's wrong to drag it out, but he wants to enjoy it.

Joey looks genuinely surprised when Jason joins him in the cave, and it's not until Joey signs that he understands why.

_ Probably shouldn't be shocked you've got long sleeves for training,  _ Joey signs. 

Oh, right.

Jason glances down at himself—long, loose pants and long, loose sleeves—and then can't stop himself from comparing himself to Joey. Joey, who has an outfit that looks far more  _ traditional  _ as far as workout gear goes. Or maybe traditional isn't the right word. Maybe  _ professional _ is better. Tight compression pants with a matching, short-sleeved top. The kind of things that probably cost a hundred dollars each and get worn by people who are  _ serious _ about working out.

Which Joey apparently is.

But it also gives him an excellent view of Joey's arms, and Jason curses himself for not having had the self-awareness to realize his feelings when Joey was parading around in nothing but swim trunks.

_ Try not to lay me out too quickly, _ Joey signs.  _ Two taps is pause, no blows to the head... I assume the standards are all pretty much the same. _

"Sounds like it," Jason says. "I'll let you take the lead."

The second time they fight is a different experience. The first was purely about getting a feel for Joey's training. This one is intended for more than that. A part of it is getting a finer feel for Joey's skills now that he knows what to watch for, but a big part of it is just getting a finer feel for Joey himself.

It isn't the first time he's seen Joey like this, but it's the first time he's let himself  _ look. _

Because, whether he was willing to admit it before or not, the fact is that Joey's good looking. 

He's muscular but not bulky the way Jason himself is, and it's clear to Jason that even if Joey's retired, he still has to work out regularly. His skin's fairly clear, but Jason catches sight of a few scars here and there as they work through some practice bouts. Joey's giving the practice his full attention, which Jason feels bad for not matching, but the fact is that he's simply better at it then Joey is, whether he wants to admit it or not. He tries not to race through things, but even still each match ends with his victory.

They're both soaked with sweat when things go wrong. Joey goes for a tricky lunge that catches Jason off guard, and Jason reacts the way he's been trained, slipping under Joey's arm and pulling him into a hold.

Up close, all his brain can think of is that they  _ are _ close. That Joey's right there, his back pressed against Jason's chest diagonally.

And worse: entirely against his will, Jason feels himself start to get hard.

He breaks the hold immediately, backing up and desperately hoping that his pants are loose enough to hide it. His face is flushed, but he's sure he can play that off as simple exhaustion.

"I think we're about done," he says. He guesses it's a mercy the position wasn't different. If he'd been pressed flush to Joey's back...

Then there'd have been no hiding.

Joey flops onto his back, staring at the ceiling as he pants with exhaustion.

On one hand, it helps: he's not looking at Jason and seeing things he shouldn't.

On the other hand, the position  _ does things _ to Jason, and he's eager to go.

"I'm going to go shower," he says. "I'm soaked with sweat." He probably doesn't need to explain why he needs a shower, but he quickly heads up the stairs without waiting for a reply, leaving the shower in the cave to Joey.

God. God, he's fucked up, isn't he? How is he going to ever spar with Joey if the first thing his brain does is think about - no, he can't even think about that.

He resists the urge to do anything about it, instead cranking the shower as cold as it'll go and standing under the spray.

At least that solves part of his problem. There's still the fact that he's letting his brain go places it shouldn't. That even standing under ice cold water his brain keeps jumping back to feeling Joey's back against his chest and how  _ nice _ that felt.

He's shivering by the time his brain stops betraying him and he lets himself get out of the water. He can't even  _ think, _ which is probably for the better. He preferred when he didn't have to. When he was apparently sending up signals but he could just ignore them.  _ This _ is something new. Totally untrod ground.

He doesn't like it, to say the least.


	46. Chapter 46

Joey doesn't mention his rapid departure when he sees him later that afternoon. Either he didn't notice, or he's being polite enough not to mention it, because all he does is thank Jason for sparring with him. Jason keeps himself busy helping Alfred get dinner ready. He's in the kitchen when the home line rings, and Jason grabs it before Alfred can, cutting vegetables while he talks.

"Wayne residence," he says.

"Oh shove it," Dick says. He sounds... haggard. Definitely not feeling his best. "The only people who call this line are me and the Gordons."

"Lucius calls sometimes," Jason points out. "Thompkins has this number too."

"Jay," Dick says, and his tone is so  _ serious _ that Jason goes quiet. "What's Bruce's mental state like?"

"Grumpy," Jason says automatically. "He's fine, I guess? Still eating through a straw, still can't talk. I think he's annoyed Slade keeps doting on him and all that."

Dick exhales on the other end, and Jason forgets what he's supposed to be doing, turning away to give the call the full his attention.

"I checked in with my team," Dick says. "Wanted to know who it was who stopped by the house. None of them would own up so I started shaking them down, but it was pretty fucking easy to figure out which of them it was when they started shaking like a leaf."

None of that sounds good, and Jason frowns at the idea.

"So?"

"Being completely honest with you, Jay, this is something Bruce needs to hear first. Kind of wish I hadn't heard. Then it'll be up to him if he wants to share it with the family. You think he's going to be up to it tonight, or should I put it off?"

Jason weighs his options. Truthfully, he's dying to find out what the hell it is.

"How stressed is he?" Jason asks.

"I figure I have three or four days before he just dies of a heart attack. He's  _ that _ level of anxious."

Jason reaches up, dragging his fingers through his hair.

"Tonight, then," he says. "I'll give Bruce some warning. We're going to have Cain dropped off at the house at some point this week, and I'd rather whatever this is get done before that happens."

It's too late in the day for her to get dropped off that day, Jason figures. If she is going to show up, he figures it'll be first thing in the morning.

"Thanks Jay," Dick says with a sigh. "I'll come down, but I doubt he's going to want to stick around. Any chance Alfred can make me something to go?"

"I'll let him know," Jason says. "See you when you get here, Dick."

He lets Alfred know what's happening and goes to find Bruce. He's not in his room, but he does find him out back in the greenhouse, sprawled out on a lounge chair and soaking up the son.

"Bruce?"

Bruce glances up, grunts, and then leans back.

_ I'm convalescing,  _ he signs, forced to finger-spell it.

"I've got news, I'm afraid," Jason says. "Dick's going to be driving down with his protege to talk to you."

_ About what? _ Bruce signs, sitting up straight.

"Won't say," Jason says. "Something bad. He's stressed, needs to talk with you, and Dick thinks it'll probably stress you too."

_ Fantastic, _ Bruce signs, and his expression—only half of which is visible—really sells how unenthused he is.

"I can tell him to go back if you want," Jason says. "But I thought handling it before Cain gets here might be better."

_ You're right, _ Bruce signs.  _ I'll be inside in a bit. _

"Oh no," Jason says. "I'm keeping an eye on you. Someone has to."

Bruce absolutely does not need babysitting, but Jason feels better about keeping an eye on him considering how much he's been to. Jason can't help but notice that Bruce seems  _ far _ more exhausted then he did in the immediate aftermath of what happened at New Arkham, and he suspects it comes down to Bruce no longer having the energy to put on a tough face.

Two broken ribs among other injuries have taken their toll, and Bruce needs time to recover.

Time he may or may not get.

Jason stays with Bruce for the hour it takes for Dick to get there. He looks unhappy when he arrives, and Jason cranes his neck to figure out who's in the passenger seat before recognizing them as Dax, the same one who went with him and Thomas.

He looks nervous. No, he looks something  _ beyond _ nervous. He's practically vibrating with  _ tension, _ and Jason feels an instinctive desire to step away from him just in case he explodes.

"Jay," Dick calls as he climbs out. "Bruce?"

"In his office," Jason says. "He can't talk, so he hooked up speakers so he can just type it and have it text-to-speech."

"Probably a good idea," Dick says, shooting Dax a worried look.

Boy, he does not look good.

"Deep breath," Dick tells him, which is probably his attempt at a pep talk. Jason considers making an attempt, and then decides that nothing he could possibly say that would improve things considering how little he knows about the situation.

Dick plants a hand on Dax's shoulder and steers him inside. Jason trails behind, suspecting that Slade's going out of his way to keep Damian away from things on purpose.

Dick ends up waiting outside after he's closed the door, and Jason raises his eyebrows.

"Not going to tell me?" He asks.

"Like I said, I wish I hadn't heard," Dick says with a shrug. "If Bruce wants to tell you, he can. But I'm not going to share that. It's a... him thing."

Jason's struggling to figure out what the hell could be a  _ Bruce thing _ that's so important, but he's coming up empty. He simply doesn't have enough information, and all he can do is stand in the hallway, making small talk with Dick and trying not to stress about it.

"Master Dick," Alfred says, arriving with an actual picnic basket. "Hopefully you'll find everything in order."

"You're the best, Al," Dick says. "How've things been in the house?"

"Quieter than usual," Alfred says with a small smile. "For what little that is worth. Things have been quite strange with no patrols. Having said that, dinner is currently cooking for the family, so I must return to that."

Jason wishes he'd stuck around, because the moment Alfred's out of earshot, Dick gives him a  _ look. _

"So," Dick says, giving him an absolutely  _ wicked _ grin, "how'd things go with Joey?"

Oh god. Not  _ this. _ Jason can't stop himself from going red, glancing away from his eldest brother.

"Do we really have to do this?"

"We totally do," Dick says. "God knows I teased Tim about stuff enough when he was younger."

"What about you?" Jason fires back. "I don't see you dating anyone."

"Haven't found the right person," Dick says. "Dated a lot of people, though. I guess I'm just not in a big hurry to settle down."

Hearing Dick say that shouldn't be embarrassing, and yet it somehow  _ is. _ Goddamn Dick and his ability to rile him up.

"Don't think I don't see you dodging the question, Jay," Dick adds with a grin.

"Things are... fine," Jason says. "We're dating. Tentatively. Taking things slow."

"Should I give him the-"

"Absolutely not," Jason says. "The first person to give him the  _ if you break his heart _ talk is going out a window."

"Somehow I t-"

The door opens behind them, and they turn in unison. Dax is standing there, looking pale and distressed. Not on the verge of crying, but definitely on the verge of a breakdown.

"Time to go," Dick says. "See you Jay."

He hooks an arm around Dax and guides him towards the door without a word. Jason's sure they're going to have a talk, but he figures they want some privacy first.

Which leaves Bruce to him. Well, him and maybe Slade if he's not enough.

He glances in the door and finds his father sitting at his desk, staring into space. He seems... unfocused. Shaken.

"Bruce?" He asks, getting no response as he steps inside. "Bruce?"

Bruce's head jerks up, staring up at Jason for a moment, and then glances away.

_ Sorry, _ he signs.  _ I just need a minute. Can you get Slade? _

It's a Slade thing. Jason feels a pang of worry but nods.

"I'll go grab him," he says. "If you need anything, just... yell, I guess."

He makes sure the door is firmly closed before going to find Slade. He's in the reading room with Damian, but the conversation they're in the middle of stops the moment Jason reaches the door.

"Jason?" Slade asks.

"Bruce wanted you in his office," Jason says. "What's going on in here?"

It's an obvious distraction and they all know it, but Damian doesn't argue or offer any sort of complaint as Slade heads out, leaving the two of them there.

"So," Jason says, "want to talk, or want to go find Joey?"

"So you two can kiss?" Damian asks, making a face.

"No!" Jason protests, momentarily distracted from the worry. "I thought you might want to do... art or something."

"We do have class tomorrow," Damian says. "I must convince him to attend. The instructor has specifically requested him."

"Not surprised," Jason says. "He's pretty good. Would make her job a lot easier having someone that talented in class."

"Good," Damian says, "you can help me convince him to attend."

Jason doesn't think Joey will need much convincing, but he chooses to go with Damian anyway, trying not to be  _ too _ worried about Bruce.

It can't be that bad. He just needs some emotional support. Maybe some time.

He's sure he'll hear what happened before the night's over.


	47. Chapter 47

It takes almost an  _ hour _ before they hear anything. Alfred ends up herding them into the kitchen to eat before their food gets cold, promising to keep things warm for Slade. Bruce, of course, is still drinking from a straw, and needs his food prepared specially anyway.

Dinner's just about finished when Slade appears in the doorway, and Jason's on his feet before he can even say anything.

"Sorry," Slade says. "Have to steal my boys."

"You need to eat," Alfred says pointedly. "As does Master Bruce."

"I'll bring him something," Slade says. "He's just in his room."

Jason's already on his way to the room when he hears Slade tell Alfred he'll stay.

Damian's beside him when they burst into Bruce's room to find their father already in bed. His eyes are red and puffy like he's been crying, and Jason feels like his heart's just been pulled out of his chest. Bruce almost  _ never _ cries. He's certainly not the emotionless brick he was once upon a time, but actually  _ crying? _ Those times are few and far between, and only when something terrible's happened.

"Father!" Damian yelps, scrambling up onto the bed. "What's wrong?"

"Give him space, Dami," Jason says quietly, sliding onto the bed beside Bruce. He can't just pull him into a hug, so he does the next best thing, throwing his arms around Bruce's shoulders and handling the hug that way as Bruce returns the affection. Damian shuffles over, settling in on Bruce's other side, and Jason breaks the hug to watch his father's face.

"What happened?"

_ Nothing happened, _ Bruce signs, which is the most blatant lie in the history of blatant lies.  _ This is a happy cry, I think. I'm just tired. _

Jason hugs him again, because it's obvious Bruce needs it. Even if he says it's a happy cry, it's clear it  _ goddamn isn't, _ because happy cries don't leave people feeling like they need to lie down.

Bruce waits until Jason pulls back to continue.

_ Dax lives in Bludhaven, _ Bruce signs,  _ but his family is from Gotham. His mother has already passed, and his father is, in his own words, a useless drunk. His father has always had less than pleasant words to say about Gotham, and me in particular, which is why he was uncomfortable when he was told who the first Batman was. _

Bruce looks exhausted, and all the signing isn't helping, so Jason can't blame him when he pauses to take a few deep breaths.

_ When we announced who we were to the public, all the news stations covered it. His father watched it, and when he got home that evening he found him having a breakdown. He got in a fight with Dax, confessed to some things, and then stormed out. Dax hasn't seen him since and thinks he left town. _

"Without his son?!" Damian asks, looking outraged. "He just left him?"

"I figure Dick's taking him in, yeah?"

_ He's not a minor, _ Bruce signs,  _ but yes, Dick called after we'd left and said he was going to make sure Dax wasn't sitting in an empty house alone. He's going to try and figure it out. _

"This doesn't explain why you're upset," Damian says, frowning deeply.

Jason suspects. The emphasis that Dax's family was from Gotham. The focus on his father.

_ Dax's father, Joe Chill, is the man who killed my parents, _ Bruce signs.

Jason wraps his arms around Bruce's shoulders again and pulls him close. Bruce  _ never _ talks about what happened, but they all know. It's impossible to live in Gotham and not know. Mugger robs the first family of Gotham, kills Thomas and Martha, spares Bruce.

Mugger is never found. Crime goes unsolved, proving that in Gotham, no one gets justice: not even the rich.

"He should be-" Damian starts, and then cuts himself off. Instead, he simply leans forward, hugging Bruce with all the care he can manage for his injured ribs.

Bruce uses his fingers to comb Damian's hair, letting himself sag further into the pillows.

_ I didn't think I'd ever know, _ he signs, mostly for Jason's benefit, because Damian can't see a damn thing with his face buried in Bruce's side.  _ I had accepted I'd never find out what happened. But now I know. _

"That it was just... some guy who wanted cash."

_ He didn't even know who they were until the next day,  _ Bruce signs.  _ It was a mistake. _

He understands now why Bruce said it was a happy cry. Even if it's dredging up old emotions for him, it's also  _ closure. _ It's answering a question he thought would never be answered. It's an  _ answer. _

"It was good he told you," Damian says. "Even if it was probably hard." He's pulled back to watch Bruce for a reaction, and Jason does the same.

_ I made sure he knew how much it meant to me,  _ Bruce signs.  _ I think he was expecting a bad reaction, and I can't blame him for thinking that. Dick will handle things with him from here on out, but I can't hold it against his son. _

"I wonder if Thomas knew," Jason asks. "I mean, it wasn't him, but... was it the same guy?"

Bruce stares into space before offering a shrug.

_ Better not to ask, _ he signs.  _ I can't imagine he'd take it well. _

No kidding.

"So we won't mention it to him," Damian confirms.

"You want us to get you food?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow, and Bruce nods.

_ Tell Slade, _ Bruce signs.  _ I think I'm going to sleep it off. _

"You're going to get food, and then you can sleep it off," Jason says.

Bruce grunts at him, and Jason leans up to peck his father on the forehead. Damian glances between them, and then does the same.

"I'll let Slade know."

He does. He lets Slade know, just to make sure Bruce gets the attention he needs. Neither Joey nor Wintergreen is told, but someone (either Bruce or probably Slade) does end up telling Alfred, because he reacts accordingly as the night moves on.

Even if they aren't told, there's no way Joey or Wintergreen could miss what's happening. Wintergreen doesn't ask, but Joey does, in his own way. Jason's considering going to bed when Joey taps him on the shoulder, and he glances over his shoulder, going pink.

"Oh," he says. "Joey."

_ It's probably not my business, _ he signs.  _ But is everything okay? _

"It's your business," Jason points out. "You live here. Whatever happened with us blows back on you. It's just..." He doesn't want to say it, because just like Dick said, it's  _ Bruce's _ story to tell. But he doesn't want Joey in the dark, either. "Bruce got some news he wasn't prepared for. It's not really  _ bad _ news, it just... brings up bad memories. He'll be alright. He just needs some time."

_ And you? _ Joey signs, raising his eyebrows.

"Tired," he admits. In a lot of ways he feels more tired then he did when he was spending every few days being up all night. "I'll be alright."

_ You're pretty tense, _ Joey observes.  _ Did you want to do something more relaxed? Watch a movie or something? _

Jason had been planning to go to bed, but right then the idea of settling in for a movie seems nice.

"Alright," he says. "Movie sounds good."

They don't end up watching a movie. There's a big documentary about sharks playing, and it seems too topical to pass up. Jason is  _ intending  _ for them to sit side by side on the couch, but when they start to settle down, Joey goes right on ahead and climbs in  _ behind _ him.

"What?" Jason asks, twisting his head around as Joey settles in. "But-"

_ You need to be able to see my hands, _ Joey signs.  _ So I have to be behind you. _

The only mercy he can find in the situation as Joey settles in behind him is that Joey can't see how red his face gets as Joey loosely wraps his arms around Jason's sides, letting his hands stay in view as he settles back.

Jason probably should be anxious. It's the closest they've come to outright cuddling since the whole thing started. Despite that, Jason finds himself actually  _ relaxing, _ leaning into the affection without meaning to as the tension eases out of his shoulders.

It's a good documentary, although not  _ quite  _ enough to hold Jason's attention with Joey's chest up against his back, and by the time the show finishes he realizes he's been dozing off, having leaned back against Joey without meaning to.

_ Time for bed? _ Joey signs, which is a weird experience since his signs are effectively backwards to Jason's perspective, but it's intelligible enough.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Maybe I should start wearing that earpiece more regularly. Would it make things easier for you?"

_ Wouldn't mind it, _ Joey signs, and Jason realizes he's in no hurry to actually get up.  _ Rose and pop both used to have similar things going on so I could reach them. _

"Then I'll start wearing it more," Jason says. "Easier."

Joey leans forward and Jason feels the brush of lips against the back of his neck. He shivers, unable to stop himself, but Joey doesn't push it past that.

_ This was fun, _ he signs.  _ We should do it again sometime. _

"Yeah," Jason says, well aware he's as red as a tomato. He turns, an awkward proposition considering how close he is to Joey, and then leans up to press a small kiss to his lips. It's been good. It's been quiet and normal and it's helped him calm down, and the idea of kissing Joey doesn't seem quite as daunting as it did before.

He doesn't drag it out, but he does let himself enjoy it, finally breaking it as he hops back off the couch, leaving Joey where he is.

"Night Joey," he says. Joey looks a bit dazed, but does sign a quick  _ night _ in return as Jason heads to his room.


	48. Chapter 48

Jason wakes feeling better than he has in a while. He feels energized, and that carries him through his morning routine right through to breakfast. Bruce is there and seems to be doing alright, and seems to be genuinely  _ happy _ when Alfred announces he's allowed to upgrade past smoothies to soups and other easy to eat foods. Bruce is pretty sure Bruce would saw off his own hand for a steak after so long without, but for the moment at least he seems happy to accept a bowl of very soupy porridge.

"Hate to tell you this," Slade says as he enters, and Bruce lets out an automatic groan, "but Diana just called. Cain's on her way over and should be here before noon."

Not exactly the best timing, but Jason doesn't see any real advantage to putting it off. He's not sure where she's been saying, but he's sure that it was probably both temporary and not as nice as the manor.

Damian and Joey arrive midway through breakfast, and Damian goes through his food like a starving animal.

"I'm going to go-"

"No you don't," Slade says. "Miss Cain's going to be here soon, and you should be here to greet her."

Damian sulks but doesn't protest, and Wintergreen glances to Slade.

"Anything I should be doing?"

Slade shrugs.

"No idea," he says. "Might need you to run into town and pick some things up, if that's alright with you."

"Of course," he says. "For what it's worth, I expect the repairs to be finished within a few weeks."

_ Repairs? _ Joey signs, looking confused.

"My house was damaged by Miss Cain and her father when they came after me," he says. "While things here might be repaired within a few days, it's much harder to get that kind of repair work done farther away from the city... especially while out of state."

"Hopefully you have someone looking in on them?" Jason asks.

"A neighbour's helping with repair work," Wintergreen says. "Someone else in the business. We're both retired for the most part, and thought it would be advantageous to retire near enough to each other to be of assistance."

Jason has to admit he hadn't given much (or any) thought to the fact that Wintergreen was  _ still there. _ In a lot of ways it feels like he's always been there, fitting into the house like he was a part of the puzzle all along, just dropped in the wrong box.

He's not sure how he feels about him leaving, and apparently he's not the only one.

"Well, no  _ this is the last time you'll see me  _ this time around," Slade says. "I expect you here for all the requisite holidays."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Wintergreen says. "All requisite holidays and the World Cup, of course."

"The World Cup  _ is _ a holiday," Alfred counters. "We'll be happy to have you whenever you need a place to stay."

"Is everything going to be alright with Cain and Wintergreen both being here...?" Jason asks, suddenly wary.

_ Diana says it'll be fine, _ Bruce signs.  _ That was the first thing I checked. _

"If it isn't, I can always grab a hotel back near my home," Wintergreen says. "A young lady with no place to go takes priority over me wanting to enjoy a few more days of Al's home cooking."

"It shouldn't come to that," Slade says.

"If she's coming today, do I not get to go to art class?" Damian asks, face pinching with annoyance.

"You can go," Slade says. "Is Joey taking you?"

_ That's the plan if I can borrow a car, _ Joey signs.

_ Of course, _ Bruce signs back.  _ What's mine is yours. _

"Including my son," Slade mutters under his breath, and Jason goes red, kicking Slade under the table.

No one  _ laughs, _ but Alfred and Wintergreen exchange smiles that  _ mean _ laughter, and Jason considers just hiding under the table entirely.

"She's going to be here soon?" Damian asks, and it's clear from his tone of voice he's just trying to spare Jason any more torment.

"Her room is already prepared," Alfred says. "She'll be down in the guest wing for the time being."

"Might be better," Slade says. "Guest wing's got more internal security in case something happens. Don't want to spy on her in her room, but... want to make sure she's safe."

"Understandable," Alfred says. "I will keep an eye out, as I believe we all should."

Jason heads down to the cave just after breakfast, picks out the smallest earpiece he can find (one that allows him to actually  _ hear _ out the ear with it in), and then spends a few minutes getting it properly set up so that it's connecting to Joey's frequencies rather than the old communication channels they used for vigilante work. He doesn't draw attention to it, just pops it into his ear and heads upstairs, eager to get some work done.

Jason spends the rest of the morning in Bruce's office on the phone with Michael and making sure everything is going smoothly. They are, because Michael's damned good at his job, but Jason still needs to sign some things, so he promises to come by next time he's in the city. Jason's not used to being so hands-off with the company, and as weird as it is he hopes things calm down enough to allow him to return to work soon.

It's eleven when Alfred knocks at the door, and Jason lets Michael know he has to go before wrapping up the call. He logs off the computer and heads to the entranceway, where everyone else has already started to gather. 

"Who do we have?" Jason asks.

"I see Steve, Diana, and one of those agents is the same one that came to the house the first time they came. Don't recognize the other one.," Slade replies.

Joey glances towards Jason, spotting the earpiece, and grins.

"This thing on?" He says into Jason's ear, and Jason shoots him a silent thumbs up, Joey's voice inaudible to everyone except maybe Slade.

"Bruce!" Diana calls as she heads towards them, leaving Steve behind. "How's your face? I heard you went in for more surgery."

"Just to repair some of the damage," Slade says. "Minimize the muscle loss. He'll be alright."

"You had better," Diana says firmly. "I only just got you back."

"How's she?" Jason asks, jerking his head towards the car, and Diana's pained expression makes it clear.

"Not so good," she admits. "She's still completely non-verbal. We've established she seems to understand at least some of what we're saying, but her behavior is... unusual at times. She doesn't seem to like Jon, either, which has made things much more difficult than expected."

"Gameplan," Slade says. "We're all going to treat her like normal until we decide otherwise. She's a new arrival in the house, we settle her in the same way we did Joey or Wintergreen."

_ She might do better with sign, _ Joey signs to them.  _ Depends on why she's non-verbal. _

"Any idea why she isn't speaking?" Jason asks Diana.

"Best guess is that it's a combination of trauma from her father and habit. She was raised not to have any language, so she doesn't, but she's been around people enough to pick it up. Obviously, she'll need classes..."

"Better to get her settled in first," Slade says. "Then we can talk about classes."

"Of course," Diana says, pausing the conversation as the rest of her party approaches.

Cassandra Cain does not look like she did the last time Jason saw her. For one, she's in clothes rather than a costume. For another, her face is exposed.

Dressed in a baggy sweater and loose fitting jeans, she looks almost like an ordinary teenager. It's the way she holds herself that gives away that she isn't, held in perfect position, ready to strike. To flee. To  _ act. _ There's nothing lazy or relaxed about her. It's clear to Jason that she's ready to bolt at a moment's notice, and it's also clear to him that the clothes are not to her taste. He can imagine why: her suit was tight and form fitting, good for physical exercise, and her current outfit is... not.

She looks younger than he expected, and he remembers being told that they aren't sure how old she actually is. He figures somewhere between fifteen and sixteen, but she's so slight and young looking he has a hard time saying anything for sure.

"Cassandra, right?" Slade asks, getting no response. "I'm sure you remember most of us. I'm Slade and this is Bruce. Bruce can't talk right now because of an injury-"

Cassandra proceeds to mime  _ exactly _ what happened to Bruce, pulling an imaginary knife and stabbing herself in the cheek with it.

"...Yes, that kind of injury," Slade confirms, and then glances to Jason.

"I'm Jason," he says, deciding against a handshake.

"My name is Damian."

Jason glances to Joey, and Joey signs at the same time that Jason says his name.

"Joey can't always talk," Jason explains when Cassandra stares at Joey extra hard.

Alfred and Wintergreen introduce themselves, and there's no added scrutiny towards Wintergreen, to Jason's relief. But there's not really much of a reaction to anyone. She's still in the same hyper-vigilant posture, ready to react to an attack that isn't coming. She isn't relaxing at all, and after a moment Bruce clears his throat and glances to Slade.

"Why don't we head inside," he says. "We can show you where you'll be staying, and give you a tour of the house."

Cassandra turns her head to look at Diana, who nods and makes a motion ushering her in, and Cassandra ends up following the group when Slade and Bruce head inside.

It's not exactly a great start, but it's a start at least.


	49. Chapter 49

There are a  _ lot _ of them, and while the house is fairly big it also feels crowded as they shuffle into the house down towards the guest rooms. Slade keeps up a quiet conversation with the two people who Jason is fairly sure are from child services, and Jason mostly ignores them, letting  _ the adults _ handle things.

"So," he says to Cassandra, taking the lead, "this is going to be your room. Bathroom's all yours, bed... I guess you don't have much stuff?"

He looks to her for a response—at least a nod—and doesn't get one. She simply stares at him, still ready to strike. Still waiting for him to... what, stab her?

He leans over, pushing open the door, and gestures for her to go in. She doesn't, and in the end he gives up, going in himself and explaining things to Cassandra as she stands in the hallway.

Damian peeks around the corner to offer Jason a shrug as he finishes up his introduction.

"Tough crowd," Joey says in his ear, and it takes all his self control for Jason not to jump in response. He's going to have to get used to it.

Cassandra doesn't seem willing to actually enter her room, but does stay with them as they trail back towards the center of the house. Alfred asks if she wants something to eat, gets no response, and starts working on lunch anyway.

"Are you going to stay?" Slade asks Diana and the others.

"Can't," Steve says with a shake of his head. "We've got another day in court arguing with judges over Luthor's case."

"It's a nightmare," Diana says. "Luthor's got some of the best lawyers in the country and they're  _ sharks. _ "

"Government's giving everything they have on this," Steve says. "We'll get him."

The League drifts off to discuss things in privacy, and both of the child services workers go with them, probably to handle the paperwork.

Cassandra watches them go, and Jason fully expects her to bolt. She doesn't, which seems like a good sign, but it also seems like it's still an option going forward.

"So," Jaon says, trying again as he turns to Cass. "...Thoughts? Ideas? Questions?"

He doesn't know what they'll do if she's actually unable to understand them. She seemed to do just fine when they fought, when th-

Right.

"Hold on," Jason says. "Maybe this'll help."

He ducks into his own room, grabbing a tablet, and accesses the manor's computer system before pulling up the videos. He finds the one for Cassandra—there's only one, probably because they assumed she didn't exist—and plays it, flipping the screen around to show her.

She recognizes herself, drifting over towards Jason as her eyes fix on the screen, watching her counterpart speak.

It's the same video she saw before, but he's fairly sure she didn't have time to see the whole thing before. Neither did he, for that matter: he didn't really process  _ any _ of what was being saying, and now that he can it gives him a bit more understanding. The language is brief and direct (probably a good thing, considering Cassandra's clear issues with communication), but the message is clear enough: you are not a weapon. You are a person.

Jason can relate to that more than he'd like.

When he finishes the video and gets no response, he simply plays it again. He sets it on loop, and Cassandra seems completely entranced, watching the short video play over and over. The her from another dimension. The one with a message for  _ her. _

Slade and Bruce rejoin them a short while later, finding Jason sprawled out on the couch, watching Cassandra as she views the video over and over again.

"Good thinking," Slade admits. "Not sure how much she understands, but seeing yourself feels universal."

It feels weird to talk about her like she isn't there, but she's still completely unresponsive.

_ Tour? _ Bruce signs, and Jason reaches out, pausing the video. Cassandra's head snaps up, eyes fixing on Jason's face, and every bit of flight or fight experience he's ever had  _ screams _ that he's in danger.

"Just for a bit," he says quickly. "You can watch after. We need to show you around so you know where things are."

She's compliant enough as they show her around the manor, but it's difficult to tell how much she's taking in even though they're all making an effort to pick easier words and use shorter sentences. It's Damian who gets the idea to test her, asking her to find the kitchen after the tour is over.

She finds it perfectly, and everyone seems to consider that a success.

Lunch, on the other hand, is a disaster. It's clear that however her father was feeding her, it wasn't at a table. Cassandra seems extremely uncomfortable sitting at one, and seems unused to cutlery. In the end, Alfred compromises by giving her a bowl of Bruce's soup, allowing her to simply lift the bowl and drink it.

Jason's pretty sure it offends Alfred's sensibilities to have her eat like that, but it's better than the alternative. Forks and knives can come later.

Or maybe right then.

"Cassandra," Slade says pointedly, his eyes fixed on her. "We don't steal knives in the house."

Cassandra stares up at him, and Jason watches her palm a knife back into place as if it were never gone at all.

"Reminds me of someone," Jason says under his breath.

"Hey!" Damian protests. "That was only one time-"

"You have to admit it's similar," Jason counters. "Probably similar reasoning, too. You both were raised to treat having a weapon as being safer. Now you don't have weapons, so you need one."

"Which is why she just stole Bruce's knife," Joey says in Jason's ear, and Jason sighs.

"Cassandra," he says, hoping that addressing the issue will improve things. "You don't need to be so... wary. You can relax. You're safe here. We have the best security money can by, and everyone here is perfectly capable of defending themselves."

She's not stupid, he reminds himself, but she's had a  _ very _ different upbringing from them. Even from Damian, who might be the person on the planet whose history is closest to her own. Raised as an assassin. Raised to kill. They've helped Damian, so why not her?

She doesn't relax, despite his attempt at a speech, and Bruce offers a shrug.

_ She stole my knife, _ he signs.  _ Should we just let her keep it? _

_ Might be easier, _ Slade signs back, and Cassandra glances between the sets of gestures, obviously wary.

They're talking behind her back in front of her, which isn't exactly great, but their options are limited.

"You're safe," Slade says. "Why don't we get her some more clothes?"

"I can pick some up," Alfred says. "I would recommend that Wintergreen stay here for the time being, as he's the most familiar with her father."

"I mostly know  _ of _ him," Wintergreen admits. "I can't say I'm an expert or anything like that."

"Wouldn't expect that much of you," Slade says. "But whatever you do know might be helpful, from your research."

"Joey and I need to leave for art class," Damian says. "We will be home before dinner."

"I would expect so," Alfred says. "I'll tailor the menu to finger foods for now."

"Bruce needs to sleep," Slade says pointedly, giving a look that automatically overrules Bruce's objection. "I think Jason and I can handle things here in the meanwhile."

Jason's not sure what he has in mind, but he hopes it'll go better than his tour did.


	50. Chapter 50

Slade's genius idea is to take Cassandra down and show her the cave. It's not exactly a  _ bad _ idea, but Jason has some concerns that primarily have to do with how much weaponry there is down there, even if it  _ is _ secured.

Cassandra seems more at ease, but it's hard to tell if it's her getting used to things, the fact that they're in the cave, or something else entirely. Jason hopes it's the former, but he's not holding his breath, either.

"I was thinking about sparring," Slade says, and Jason raises an eyebrow.

"Is that actually a good idea?" He asks. "First day?"

"Went find with Joey and Thomas," Slade says. "I want to know how good she is that she held all of you off. You can officiate."

"What, I don't even get a turn?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't," Slade says flatly. "Until we know exactly what her capabilities are, I'm not risking someone getting hurt." In other words, if someone's getting stabbed, he wants it to be himself.

Jason huffs and settles into a chair as Slade tosses Cassandra one of the wooden training swords that he uses to practice with Damian. Jason suspects Damian would be annoyed to know his gear was being used, but hopes it isn't going to be obvious.

If lunch was a disaster, the sparring session is somehow even worse.

It's not that Cassandra is too dangerous, but instead the opposite: her combat skills, in sharp contrast to what Jason's expecting, are  _ awful. _ Her swings are slow, her blows inconsistent, her block's subpar.

"Are you holding back?" Slade asks midway through. "I was told you were good. I don't-"

Slade doesn't get to finish the sentence. Cassandra surges forward, the flow of the fight changing so drastically that Jason actually jerks onto his feet out of sheer instinct. It's over so fast that he doesn't even get a chance to react properly. Cassandra  _ swings,  _ and Slade pulls his sword up enough so hard and fast to keep the blow from breaking his arm that the sword cracks in half.

Slade's obviously expecting it to stop there, but it doesn't. Cassandra palm strikes his arm and then swings the  _ broken chunk of wood like a goddamn real weapon _ and there's a splash of blood across the floor.

She's goddamn  _ opened his throat with the cracked sword. _

"Slade!" Jason yells, panic rising in his chest.

Jason goes for it, but he's arriving too late. Cassandra bolts up the stairs and Slade collapses to his knees, his hand coming up to hold his own throat closed.

_ Fine, _ he finger spells with his free hand.  _ Go. _

"Fuck that," Jason snaps, already down on his knees beside Slade as he tries to assess the damage and just how bad the injury is. He can't see it past Slade's hand, but the bleeding seems to have gone down from  _ extremely heavy _ to  _ not that bad _ already, and he suspects it has a lot to do with the fact that Slade's literally holding the injury closed while it heals.

_ Go, _ Slade signs, as if that's going to convince Jason to go after the girl who just opened his throat and not stay with him until his throat heals.

"You need someone to-"

_ Al, _ Slade signs, and Jason says every vile word he can think of at that moment.

Because he's right. Al's upstairs and so is Wintergreen, and he can't just leave things as they are.

"If you die," Jason says, "I'm going to kill you."

He bolts up the stairs.

There's no blood trail to follow, and the distinct lack of screaming means he goes for the next best thing, slapping his hand to the security panel in the hallway and starting to rapidfire flick through the camera feeds, searching for Cassandra. Camera after camera comes up blank, but there's been no report of anyone leaving the grounds, either.

"Master Jason," Alfred says, and Jason's head jerks around to find Alfred standing in the hallway.

"Cass-"

"Is in the ballroom," Alfred says. "She was moving quite quickly, so both myself and Billy assumed the worst and went after her. Hopefully everything's alright?"

Jason flips the camera feed to the cave and finds Slade standing, which he takes as a  _ yes. _ He lets himself take a deep breath, sagging forward until his head is pressed against the wall. His heart's still racing in his chest.

"Training accident," he says. "I need to talk to her."

"I would recommend observing remotely for now," Alfred says. "When I left, she and Billy were having a nice conversation and he was calming her down."

"She was  _ talking?" _

"Not as such," Alfred says.

He swaps the security feed to the ballroom, flipping until he finds one that shows Cassandra, and then observes. In such a large room there's not going to be reliable audio, but Wintergreen is settled in beside Cassandra, talking quietly to her. She doesn't seem to be responding much, but she does appear to at least be listening, and Jason lets out a small sigh of relief.

"Where is she?" Slade asks from behind them, and Jason spins. He's still got his hand on his throat and the front of his shirt is  _ soaked _ with blood, but he's together enough to talk at least.

"Ballroom," Jason says. "Wintergreen's calming her down."

"Oh dear," Alfred says, going pale as he looks Slade up and down. "I can only imagine the state the cave is in..."

"I'm going to go wash," Slade says. "Hopefully Bruce is still asleep and isn't going to have me walk in on him looking like this."

"Use my bathroom," Jason says. "You're going to give Bruce a heart attack if he sees you like that."

"Not a bad idea," Slade says, heading down towards the bedrooms.

"I'll handle the cave," Alfred says. "I would give them a bit, and then join them if you'd like."

His heart's finally slowing down, and he makes himself take another deep breath. It's alright. Slade's fine. But what matters is that it very easily could have  _ not _ been fine. She must have known Slade could regenerate, right?

He wants to believe that, but he's wary as he heads for the ballroom. It's one of the largest rooms in the house, and Cassandra and Wintergreen are sitting on the floor on the far side of the room.

The moment he enters the room, Cassandra stands immediately, and Jason holds up his hands, palms up.

"I'm not here to fight," he says, because god help him if she actually tries to take him down. "I just wanted to let you know that Slade's fine."

Cassandra seems tense, but she doesn't jump, which is better. Wintergreen gets to his feet, dusting himself off, and nods to Cassandra.

"See?" He says. "No harm, no foul." Wintergreen pats her on the shoulder, which Jason thinks is a  _ terribly _ risky proposition, but Cassandra makes no move to harm the older man. "I believe Cassandra might wish for a bit of time to herself in her new room," Wintergreen adds, glancing to Cassandra.

To Jason's  _ immense _ surprise she nods, and he lets out a sigh of relief. It's the first confirmation they've gotten that she even understands, and he doesn't see a reason to object.

"Sure," he says. "I'll show you."

He walks her back to her room, with Wintergreen trailing just behind. His stomach is doing flips, unsure of what he should expect, but he doesn't follow her into the room, leaving her with some space to herself.

Wintergreen's there when her door closes, and it's clear he has some firm  _ opinions _ about what just happened.

"Monumentally bad idea doing whatever it was you just did with her. She wasn't exactly clear."

"Sparring," Jason says. "I expressed my concerns. Slade said it would be fine."

"Don't be afraid to tell him he has his head up his ass," Wintergreen says. "Shouldn't have given her a weapon."

"It was a wooden sword. It-"

"A wooden sword is a weapon in her hands."

Jason sighs and reaches up, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

"I get that," he says. "And now we probably... made things worse. This doesn't exactly have a manual, you know."

"It does not," Wintergreen says, "and I am beginning to wonder if you're all going into this with the appropriate level of understanding as to just how hard this is going to be."

Jason wants to argue. He wants to say that Wintergreen's wrong, but he isn't. They've gone into things maybe a bit too quickly, without proper preparation. They'd dealt with Damian, and Jason's just then realizing that  _ older _ doesn't mean  _ easier. _ It just means the indoctrination's in deeper.

"What do I do exactly?" Jason asks. "She wouldn't talk to me."

"Try speaking to her directly," Wintergreen says. "She seems unused to being addressed, so if you're in a group and speak she will simply assume you're speaking to anyone but her."

Jason makes a note of that and nods.

"She... she understands, right?" Jason asks carefully.

"More than I think you're giving her credit for," Wintergreen says. "While I am unsure why she isn't speaking, I'm sure she will in her own time."

"Maybe Joey had the right idea," Jason says. "I'll just... if everyone signs while they talk, maybe she'll pick it up. Maybe that'll be easier."

"It can't hurt," Wintergreen says. "But if I may make a suggestion... It may be better to treat her as if she has no combat skills at all."

Jason doesn't get it, and raises his eyebrows in confusion.

"There is no question that Miss Cain is extremely competent, skilled enough to give even Slade a run for his money. But does she  _ want _ to be?"

"I... am not sure I understand what you're getting at."

"Did Damian wish to be an assassin when he was a child? Does she?"

Oh. Then he understands, and his face flushes with embarrassment for not having realized it earlier. For not having  _ gotten it _ when he really should have. There are enough parallels with Damian that it should have been clear.

"Treat her like a teenage girl first," Jason says, "and an assassin not at all."

"Exactly," Wintergreen says. "Although I would recommend keeping an eye on the security around her room to ensure she does not make an attempt to sneak out."

"Way ahead of you," Jason says. "I'm going to go check on Slade, though." He's probably fine, but... he'd rather not chance it.

"Of course," Wintergreen says, giving him a stiff nod. "Hopefully everything is alright, and your father isn't  _ too _ upset by what's happened to his husband."

Jason hopes that too. The last thing Bruce needs is more stress.


	51. Chapter 51

The door isn't completely closed to the master bedroom, which Jason takes as a good sign. He knocks, gets a grunt, and pops his head in to find Slade standing there (thankfully dressed in clean clothes), getting absolutely  _ torn to shreds _ by Bruce.

Bruce can't talk, but that doesn't stop him from gesturing wildly at Slade, making his displeasure known, and while Jason can only catch half of what Bruce is signing from his position by the door, it's clear enough from Slade's posture and how violently Bruce is gesturing that Bruce is  _ not _ happy.

"Everything alright?"

"Fine," Slade says, tilting his head back. The front of his throat is the pink of fresh skin, the only sign of the injury that remains. "Just told your father what happened and now he's letting me know what a giant fucking idiot I am."

Jason wants to say  _ I'm sure he didn't use those words, _ but with how angry Bruce looks he isn't entirely sure that's true.

"Cassandra?" Slade asks.

"In her room," Jason says. "I've got security alerts set up to tell me if she leaves."

_ Probably traumatized, _ Bruce signs.  _ Since she just cut someone's throat. _

"We don't know that," Jason says. "I was going to suggest we take Joey's advice and start signing as we speak. She might do better picking up sign, and she'll need to learn it anyway for Joey."

_ In general, _ Bruce signs.  _ We need to be more careful. _

He shoots Slade a dirty look, and then starts to get himself out of bed.

"Oh no you don't," Slade says. "You're supposed to be resting-"

_ I am not getting any rest, _ Bruce signs.  _ I'm coming out. _

Jason lets Slade watch the manor while he heads down to the cave, but Alfred's already all but finished cleaning up. Jason doesn't know  _ how _ he's that fast, but apparently he is, so all Jason gets to do is help Alfred carry the cleaning supplies back upstairs.

Cassandra remains in her room. As the hours pass, Jason gets paranoid enough to double check the camera feed in her room (probably an invasion of privacy, although he justifies it to himself as far as safety goes), and finds Cassandra sitting on her bed, doing nothing.

Great.

Joey and Damian get home before long, and Jason gets the job of filling them in on what happened. Damian's face pinches with concern and he heads off to go check on Slade (even if Jason's reassured him repeatedly that Slade's fine), but Joey's focus goes to him instead.

_ How are you feeling? _ Joey signs, and Jason sighs.

"Like we bit off way more than we can chew. I'm not sure if I forgot how hard it was for Damian to adjust, or if she's more difficult in general."

_ Hasn't even been a day, _ Joey signs.  _ Give it time. _

Jason sighs and sags back into his seat.

"How was art class?"

_ Pretty sure the instructor was more interested in flirting with me then she was in teaching the kids, _ Joey signs.  _ Going to have to break her heart if I go back next week. _

Jason smiles a bit at that. It's just  _ banter, _ but it feels normal in a way the rest of the day hasn't, and he feels like he can actually breathe again.

Cassandra still hasn't emerged by the time dinner rolls around, and Jason's sure he's not the only one double checking and finding her still sitting in her room on the bed, doing nothing.

"I'll go get her," Slade says. "She should eat with us."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Jason asks.

"I have to apologize to her anyway," Slade says. "And again... might as well be me."

_ I was thinking that none of us should go into her room, _ Bruce signs.  _ Make it a place she can always retreat too. _

It's not a bad idea, and Jason says as much. He's not the only one: pretty much everyone agrees to the rule, and Jason makes a point of bringing up that he plans to sign as he speaks. That gets another round of universal agreement, save from Joey and Bruce, who clearly don't get much of a choice right then.

When Slade leaves to fetch Cassandra, the conversation falls into a lull, and Jason's sure he's not the only one waiting with baited breath for the sounds of combat.

They don't come. Cassandra trails Slade into the dining room and takes a seat as normal. She's just as tense as she was when she first arrived, and doesn't acknowledge much of anything as she eats the food set in front of her.

But Jason tries anyway.

"Cassandra," he says, and she turns, clearly recognizing her name. "Alfred picked up some clothes for you to wear. You should probably try them on after dinner so we know you have something to wear tomorrow."

She doesn't respond, just stares at him, and again Jason is left guessing whether she understands him and isn't responding, or if she simply doesn't understand at all.

He attempts to rephrase.

"Will you try them on after we finish eating?" He asks. "It would be helpful."

There's more staring—so long Jason becomes convinced for a moment that it's another lost cause—and then she nods.

Jason lets out a sigh of relief.

"I left the bag by the back door," Alfred says. "There should be enough for at least a week, and depending on what fits, I'll order more in the same sizes."

Jason doesn't feel the need to be there for the fashion show. He leaves it to Bruce and Slade and retires out onto the back porch for an attempt at peace and quiet. He gets it, for the most part, although Titus comes out to visit him after an hour and he suspects it's specifically because Damian sent the dog out to check on him.

But he doesn't  _ do _ anything as the sun sinks behind the clouds. He has a lot of things he  _ could _ be doing, but he doesn't want to do any of them. He doesn't have the energy.

He knows eventually someone's going to interrupt him, but he doesn't give it much thought until it happens. The sun's down, the air's getting cool, and Slade joins him out on the back porch, settling in to one of the other chairs.

"You feeling alright?"

"Fine," Jason says. "Just... tired. A lot's happened."

"No kidding," Slade says. "We had planned to go visit Thomas tomorrow, but we obviously can't until Cassandra's a bit more settled in."

"She get clothes?"

"Found some things that fit, yeah," Slade confirms. "Sure you're alright?"

"Like I said," Jason says with a small smile, "just tired."

"How about..." Slade starts, pausing for a moment before reconsidering. "How about you take Damian and Joey and go up to the farm? Just the three of you. Give her a bit more space to settle in, and keep the stress down."

"I don't even know where to go," Jason points out.

"You say that like I can't just give you the address," he counters. "Damian's been there. He can direct you."

"Do I have to warn them...?"

"Nah, they've got operating hours. If you go midday, you'll be just fine."

Jason can't believe they're having an honest to god conversation about visiting a cow. Part of him says he should be visiting  _ Thomas, _ but the rest of him—the  _ sensible _ part of him—knows that wouldn't be a good idea. He needs to give it more space. Maybe in a few days.

"Alright," he says. "Going to be a hard sell on city boy Joey."

"Just tell him it's a date," Slade says with a wink, and Jason goes pink.

"Slade, are you really... are you really okay with this? With Joey and me..."

"Being together? Dating?" Slade offers him a shrug. "For one, I don't think I get all that much say in it. For another... maybe it's unhealthy, but it's a bit of a relief I can keep a close eye on things. I'm not going to pretend like I'm not worried about you, but at least this way I can watch for any sort of warning signs."

"Joey is - he's nice. I don't think he would-"

"I don't think he would either," Slade interrupts, before Jason can stumble through any more of his impromptu defense. "Doesn't mean he won't without realizing it. Part of dating means pushing the other person's boundaries without meaning too."

"You mean like making out in the hallway where your impressionable son might walk in on you."

"Oh, if you think that's bad, you should never ask-"

Jason claps his hands over his ears.

"Lalalala," Jason says loudly. "Not listening to your sexcapades, thanks."

Slade cracks up at that, and in the end they retire back into the house without talking about it further.


	52. Chapter 52

Jason misses Cassandra's first night in the mansion more or less entirely. It's not an intentional thing: he just sticks to his own routine and the first he hears about it is when Slade drags himself into breakfast fifteen minutes later.

Jason, Wintergreen, and Alfred are the only ones there, which is not a good sign.

"Oh no," he says. "What'd I miss?"

"She went to sleep in the entranceway," Slade grumbles. "There's a little space in front of the window and I have no idea how she got up there, but apparently she decided she sleeps up there now."

The window's he's talking about aren't easy to access: they're effectively on the second floor, but there's nothing in front of them but open space, meaning she either jumped or scaled the wall to reach it.

"An advantageous position," Wintergreen says. "Less likely to be trapped."

"If nothing else, this means I might be able to get her assistance in cleaning that area," Alfred says. "Normally I have to produce a full ladder to do so."

"Sorry to say, but kind of happy I missed that," Jason says.

"Your brother didn't," Slade says with a grunt. "I had to send Joey and Damian to bed because it was obvious she wasn't coming down. Then I stayed up so I could keep an eye on the camera feed for the entranceway."

"Did you tell them about the farm?"

"I was going to let you," Slade says. "So have fun with that."

Joey shows up not long later, looking far more awake then Slade does, and Jason waves at him, waiting for Damian to show up before he brings it up.

"So," he says, "I was thinking we could get out of the house and go-"

"See Batcow?!" Damian finishes.

"...See Batcow," Jason confirms.

Damian leaps from his seat, pumping his fists into the air.

"At last!" He says. "Finally, you both get to meet Batcow!"

From the look on his face, Joey was right about to opt out of the trip, but there's no  _ way _ he's turning things down with how enthusiastic Damian is for the trip.

"Father obviously can't go," Damian says, "but we can take pictures for him to make up for it."

"Maybe we can all go together next time," Slade says. "But for now, it'll just have to be the three of you."

"I've already prepared a lunch for you to take," Alfred says. "If you're interested in seeing the sights, there is a more scenic route you take take home."

"Thanks Al," Jason says. "We'll see how we feel after spending some time at the farm."

When they leave not that much later, Jason spots Cassandra perched up by the window, peeking out at them. He debates acknowledging her versus pretending like she's hidden, and then decides that she's probably already aware they know where she is. He doesn't really think that's the  _ point.  _ The point is having a place where she can't be trapped, not hiding.

"Bye Cassandra!" He calls up, signing as he says it. "We're going to go see Batcow."

"I'll show you pictures when we get back!" Damian announces, signing as well.

Joey simply waves and they head out to the car.

It's not a quick drive. It's supposed to be two hours, but Jason's pretty sure he can make it in closer to one and a half. It's a quiet drive though, with both Joey and Damian keeping themselves busy, either by sketching the scenery or looking at things on their phone.

The highway has a sign for the farm, announcing that  _ Happy Hills Park and Petting Zoo _ is off the next exit, and he whistles to let the other two know he's there as he pulls off. Damian squishes his face up to the window, gawking at the farms as they pass. It's a rural area, and the center of the town (Which might be Happy Hills, Jason certainly wasn't paying that much attention) amounts to a gas station and a fast food hub. Jason skips right past them, finding the petting zoo without too much trouble.

"Huh," he says as he grabs a parking spot. "This is better than I thought."

Really, he was expecting a barn with some farm animals. What he finds is something a fair bit more elaborate. There  _ is _ a barn, but it's set off to the back near what looks to be stables. The actual petting zoo seems to put the emphasis on the  _ zoo, _ because there's a whole entranceway with a ticket counter and, if Jason is being honest with himself, it doesn't look that bad. It's not  _ new, _ but it's not what Jason expected either.

"Of course," Damian says as he unbuckles his belt. "You think I would leave Batcow in a subpar facility?"

"Damian, she's a cow," Jason says. "She just needs a barn."

"Batcow  _ needs _ a barn, but she  _ deserves _ the best," Damian counters, and Joey doubles over, silently laughing.

"Alright alright, I get it," Jason says, ushering Damian towards the entrance. "Where are we going?"

"The entrance," Damian says, giving him an  _ are you stupid _ look as Jason locks the car. "We have a membership."

Jason lets Damian take the lead, because he's the only one who has any idea what's going on, trailing behind him as he heads up to the building that serves as the entrance. There's a gift shop (because of course there's a gift shop), and Jason can't help but wonder how the place manages to stay open when it's so far from the city.

"Mr. Wayne!" The woman behind the counter yelps, obviously recognizing him. "You're back!"

Apparently Damian's left a hell of an impression, because she vanishes into the back room, and not a minute later an older man arrives, looking flustered.

"I thought you might call," he says to Damian, before looking up and registering that Jason and Joey are there. There's  _ absolutely _ no question that he recognizes Jason, because he goes a bit pink, and Jason's pretty sure he goes pink right back.

"Mr. Wa-" He starts, before realizing that at least two of the people in front of him are  _ Mr. Wayne. _

"Jason is fine," Jason says quickly. "Damian's been begging us to come since he was first here."

The man practically  _ glows _ with excitement.

"Of course," he says. "Let me show you around."

They end up getting a personal tour from the man, who introduces himself as the manager of the park. He thanks them several times for Slade's  _ generous _ donation, shows them everything there is to show, and offers to let them get up close with pretty much any animal they want.

Midway through the tour, Joey hooks his arm through Jason's, and Jason pretty much misses the entire second half of the tour as a result. Joey is just  _ very _ distracting, and hearing Joey's running commentary on which animals he does or doesn't like is really messing with him.

"And of course," the manager says as they head towards the barn, "we've got Batcow."

Batcow turns out to have an actual nameplate, including a 'sponsored by The Wayne Family' tag, and it dawns on Jason that the  _ timing _ is a little bit off.

"Hold on," he says, glancing to Damian. "Did you publically name them Batcow before we were out?"

"He did!" The manager says, looking amused. "We just assumed he was a fan."

"See?" Damian says. "It's just fine."

The cow in question roams over to them, nudging at Damian, and Jason has to admit that the name is pretty accurate. The marking on the cow's face  _ does _ look a lot like their symbol, rather than just looking sort of like it if you squint.

"Batcow," Damian says solemnly. "This is Jason and Joey."

Batcow turns her head, staring up at them, and Jason offers a wave, feeling silly. Damian seems happy with that, scratching the cow enthusiastically and giving her his full attention.

"This is kind of nice, actually," Joey says in his ear, and Jason shoots him a grin. Joey's still got their arms linked together, and even with Damian there it does actually sort of feel like a date.

"If you let me know when you're coming next time," the manager says, "I can make sure we have special activities prepared."

He seems absolutely  _ desperate _ to please, and Jason wonders just how big a cheque Slade wrote the place.

"Sure," he says. "I'll get them to call next time before they come. This was kind of short notice."

"Maybe something for the two of you?" He suggests. "Any animals you're interested in?"

Joey  _ could _ talk to him directly, but instead he signs, likely to make it clear to the manager (even if he doesn't understand ASL) that they're communicating at all.

_ Not much of an animal person, _ Joey signs.  _ You? _

Animals feel like one of those things that he might have liked if he'd had a different life. The streets didn't have room for a pet. Neither did his schedule as Batman. He likes Titus and Portia well enough, but zoo animals? Not particularly.

He offers a shrug to the manager.

"Nothing in particular," he says.

"We do have an amazing aviary," he suggests. "I could bring you in, if you'd like."

Jason glances to Joey, who offers a shrug.

"Sure," he says for them. "We'll see what you've got."

The aviary is the best Jason's ever seen, which is not a high bar to pass. It's a large enclosed building with a ton of perches, play structures, and other attractions for the birds. The keepers are apparently about to feed the birds, so they end up loading Jason and Joey up with fresh fruit before sending them into the largest room, which has several scarlet macaws in it. Hand-feeding them is an  _ experience, _ and Jason finds himself smitten when one of them takes a particular liking to Joey, preening his hair for him while he feeds the other birds.

Okay, so maybe birds  _ aren't _ so bad.

"What!" Damian protests from the other side of the aviaries screens. "You got to feed them?"

"You were busy with Batcow," Jason says as he hands a bit of fruit to a parrot. 

One of the birds nearly steals Jason's phone when he pulls it out to take a picture of Joey buried in parrots, and Joey takes a picture of his own before the manager borrows both their phones to take a picture of them together. Only then do they extricate themselves from the aviary to find a sulking Damian, whose sulk is rapidly defused by the manager suggesting that Damian feed the capybaras.

Damian insists they get a group shot with Batcow, and by the time they're done, Jason's ready to go home. It's already been  _ hours, _ and they've still got a drive back.

They eat lunch first though, grabbing one of the picnic tables out front, and then Jason has to drag Damian back to the car rather than letting him go back in for more time with Batcow.

"They'll still be there when you come back," Jason says. "Plus, you'll be able to show Bruce then. Maybe even Dick and Tim."

"Jackson would love Batcow," Damian says as he settles into the car. "He should come next time."

"You're going to have to run that past Tim and Barbara," Jason says. "Now let's get home."

As full of energy as Damian was on the way up, he's asleep in the back seat within ten minutes of the ride home starting, leaving Jason to enjoy the drive in relative quiet as Joey sketches beside him.


	53. Chapter 53

Jason has to rouse Damian when they get back to the house, nudging him awake after getting out himself.

"Think she's still in the window?" He asks, craning his neck to see if he can spot Cassandra, but the angle's wrong and he can't tell either way.

"We'll see," Joey says in his ear as Damian starts back towards the house, rubbing at his eyes and yawning.

Cassandra isn't in the windowsill when they get in, and Jason lets out a sigh of relief at the idea.

"Welcome back," Alfred says as he heads into greet them, looking calm and not at all like he just spent the whole day putting out Cassandra-related fires (probably a good thing). "Everything went well?"

"They met Batcow!" Damian announces. "And I got to feed some capybara."

"Manager was nice," Jason says as he kicks off his shoes. "Gave us the tour, special treatment, that whole deal."

"I would expect as much with how much Master Bruce is donating..." Alfred says with a wry chuckle.

_ Everything go alright here? _ Joey signs.

"I managed to coax Miss Cain out of the windowsill not long after you departed, and we ate lunch together. Since then, she's been watching TV with Slade."

Oh boy.

_ I smell like bird, _ Joey signs.  _ I'm going to go take a shower. _

"I'll check on Slade," Jason says. "See you after."

He knows he'll have to shower before dinner, but right then he just wants to check in and see for his own eyes that things are just fine.

_ Watching TV with Slade _ is probably overselling it. Slade's definitely watching TV, sitting on the couch looking tired, but Cassandra's perched with her legs folded up on a chair on the far side of the room.  _ She's _ not watching TV. She's watching Slade, and he's simply resigned himself to it.

"You smell like animals," Slade says without looking. "Shouldn't you be showering?"

"Wanted to see what was going on," Jason says. "What'd I miss?"

"Well, in a  _ mysterious _ turn of events, Santa Prisca's president just abdicated completely out of the blue. Vice president was arrested the same day. They've got no political structure and are holding emergency elections. Guess who showed up?"

"Bane?" Jason asks, trying not to sound  _ too _ happy.

"Nah, he was out of sight. The militia boys—spotted at the very least Doyle guarding one of the politicians when they announced the abdication."

"Good," Jason says. "Means things are going well. And no one's died so far, right? So it's a win win."

"I plan to keep an eye on it," Slade says. "I'm assuming you're going to be too."

"Of course," Jason says. "How could I not?"

He glances to Cassandra to find her staring at him, but she's just... there. Her posture isn't threatening at all, just observing, and Jason makes an attempt to reach out.

"I probably smell like a barn," Jason says. "But when I get back from showering, do you want to see the picture of Damian's cow?"

No response. She just stares at him, watching without reacting.

It's been two days and he's already exhausted from the lack of reaction. It's the opposite of what he's used to, and he has no idea how to respond.

"Cool," Jason says, deciding to just act like no response means  _ yes. _ "I'll show you when I'm done."

There's no response to that either, and Jason leaves them behind to go shower.

He catches Bruce in the hallway when he's done. He's obviously had his bandages changed, because they cover a lot less of his face, and he looks less miserable this time around.

"Bruce," Jason says, drawing his father's attention. "How are you feeling?"

_ Slightly less like a truck hit me, _ Bruce signs.  _ How was the farm? _

"More of a zoo," Jason says. "Got to feed parrots and meet Batcow. Damian fed a capybara and I figure you've got two weeks tops before he tries to get you to adopt one as a pet."

_ Too big, _ Bruce signs.

"You know  _ that's _ not going to stop him."

Bruce lets out a wheezy little laugh, and Jason heads back to the center of the house. Cassandra and Slade are still right where he left them, so he pulls out his phone and sets up a slideshow of the photos, holding it up for Cassandra to see. She doesn't reach out to take the phone, but her eyes do settle on the screen, watching as picture after picture goes by. It takes Jason maybe a minute longer than it should for him to realize that the pictures must have run out, and he glances down, realizing they've gone right into the few pictures he took of Santa Prisca.

"Oh," he says. "Right - this was a trip we took right before you got here. Joey and I went, and Wintergreen chaperoned."

Now that they're dating, the idea of Wintergreen  _ chaperoning _ takes on a much different meaning...

"I guess you don't know much about us, do you?" Jason asks, deciding to just keep going because it's not like she's  _ discouraging _ him from explaining. "Bruce adopted Dick, me, and Tim. Damian's his biological son, but he didn't join our family until more recently, so he's still the baby of the family. Slade's basically my dad, and he adopted me and Damian. Dick and Tim were old enough that they kind of declined, so he's not  _ really _ their father, which is probably kind of confusing, but he's still their stepfather."

He has no context with her. He has no idea if she knows what a  _ stepfather _ is. Or a marriage. Or  _ brothers. _

"I think the idea is that you'll be a part of our family too, but Bruce's learned enough about  _ asking  _ not to rush into things, so you'll basically get to decide what you want when you're ready to make that decision. Bruce is  _ really _ on team 'you can do whatever you want' because he realizes that he damaged his relationships with us by making stupid assumptions. Like... originally I was Jason Todd, and he kept me with Jason Todd without asking, and I'd really have liked to have been Jason Wayne. So it'll kind of be the same with you. You're still Cassandra Cain, and if you want to stay like that, you can. But if you want to be Cassandra Wayne-Wilson, you basically just have to ask Bruce and he'll produce the paperwork like nothing."

Jason hears Slade shift on the couch behind him, and realizes he'd completely forgotten he was even in the room.

"Isn't that right, Slade?"

"Kid's got it," Slade says. "You're old enough to make your own decisions. We're just here to help you along, not to force you to do things."

Jason glances back to Cassandra, and he... he hopes. It's hard to tell, because he sure as hell can't  _ read _ her, but he  _ hopes _ that he sees the first hints of recognition in her eyes as he turns back to her.

He just hopes she understands.

Dinner that night is more successful than the night before. Cassandra tries more foods, conversation is less awkward, and Bruce has good news.

_ We now own the land behind our house, _ Bruce signs.  _ Everything between our house and the Kent's house, and even more on each side. _

"Good," Slade says. "Means we can clear a path."

"Or mark a path," Damian says. "We don't need to clear trees. It's unnecessary."

"You're worried about the wildlife," Jason says, only just reminding himself to sign as he starts to say it.

"Of course!" Damian says. "It should be a park back there. We can lay out a path without disturbing any animals."

_ We can do things your way if you'll be in charge of maintaining it,  _ Bruce signs.  _ It can be your weekly chore. Keeping the path clear. _

"Can I get Jon to help?" Damian asks, clearly considering it.

"You can  _ ask,"  _ Slade says, "but if he says no, you still have to do it."

"Alright," Damian says. "I'm sure he'll help. Or maybe his little brothers."

Every time Damian refers to the clones as Jon's  _ little _ brothers he has to fight back the urge to laugh.

"How are they doing, anyway?" Jason asks.

"Good," Bruce says out of the side of his mouth before reverting to signing.  _ Clark's parents are arriving tomorrow to help out. Clark's a bit overwhelmed right now. _

"And yet he declined the extra food I offered to send," Alfred says, his disapproval clear.

"He has strong opinions about receiving charity," Slade says. "We bought him a whole  _ house.  _ Makes sense he'd feel like he owes us too much to accept it."

"It was extra-"

"You aren't fooling anyone with that, Al," Jason says. No one believes that Alfred just  _ randomly _ started making extra food. That's not how he works.

Al tuts, but doesn't protest.

"I was thinking about doing that interview tomorrow," Jason says. "I want to drop by work and sign some things, and I thought... I might as well. That it was as good a time as any."

"You mean before the speculation gets too intense," Slade says. "I'm fine with it."

Jason knows there's speculation. He knows there are articles. He's just actively choosing not to look, and he's sure he isn't the only one. It's not good for his mental health. It's not good for  _ anyone's _ mental health.

So he's been ignoring it. In a lot of ways the whole family's been isolating themselves from the greater society, giving themselves time to adjust. To heal. But they can't stay that way forever. They need to go back to their ordinary lives as much as possible.

_ As much as possible _ being the key phrase. Jason's under no illusion that things will go back to how they were before.

There's no going back.

_ Are you sure you're ready for that? _ Bruce signs, and Jason exhales.

"Being honest? I'm never going to be  _ ready _ for it. But I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"Let him go," Slade says to Bruce. "He can't do a worse job then I did."

Bruce smacks Slade in the shoulder, and Slade lets out a laugh.

Jason realizes, not for the first time, that he's completely forgotten Cassandra. She's there at the table with them, working her way through the food, but she's completely silent. She's just... watching. Wary. Still hyper vigilant. Jason supposes he should consider it a success that she's eating with them at all, but it's still... she was like that when she  _ arrived. _ That feels like something Diana managed.

"What about you, Cassandra?" He asks. "Anything you want to do tomorrow?"

She turns her head to stare at him, and Jason regrets putting her on the spot. No response. In fact, maybe even less of a response then he got earlier when it was just the two of them and Slade in the room.

It's Slade who saves him from this, too.

"I was thinking I could give Cassandra some tutoring," he says. "Diana left some material behind I'm supposed to go over with her."

_ Probably a good idea, _ Bruce signs, giving a nod for emphasis.

"What about you, Joey?" Damian asks, peeking at him as if hoping Joey will offer to help him set up the path.

"Actually," Jason says, "if Joey doesn't have anything to do, I was thinking he might go with me to the interview. Flying me in would be nice, because I'm like... one hundred percent sure they're going to ask who he was."

_ You're thinking I should be public? _ Joey signs.

"I'm thinking we should at least acknowledge your existence," Jason says. "You're from another dimension. The League already announced that people like that exist, so establishing that the guy who was flying around day of would probably... I don't know. Calm people down?"

"Mentioning him in passing shouldn't be an issue," Slade says. "Just don't make the interview about him."

_ Don't mention he's your boyfriend, _ Bruce signs, and Jason flushes with genuine embarrassment.

"I wouldn't," Jason says. "We only just started, and I - we wouldn't go public. Not yet. Not right now."

_ Good, _ Bruce signs.  _ I'll set things up for an interview tomorrow. _

Jason glances back to Joey, sure he's still a bit red.

"You're okay with that?" Jason says. "I can always just drive myself..."

_ I'm fine with flying you in, _ Joey signs.  _ It isn't an issue. _

"Alright," Jason says, trying not to look  _ too _ pleased with the whole thing.

Cassandra still isn't interested in sleeping in her own room, but at the very least they know it's coming. They arrange shifts, with Alfred, Wintergreen, and Slade taking the bulk of it. Jason gets told in no uncertain terms that he does  _ not _ get a shift, and gets sent off to bed to make sure he's well rested.

He sleeps well that night, and when he dreams, he dreams of wings.


	54. Chapter 54

Bruce sees them off the following morning with a lecture that Jason  _ really _ doesn't need. He's already read all the information Bruce sent him both the night before and back when he first brought it up. He knows who's interviewing him, where he's going, and all the relevant details, but that doesn't stop Bruce from going over what to do if he gets a bad question, things he shouldn't bring up, so on and so forth.

"We should have just done the interview with Clark and Lois," Jason says as he adjusts his outfit. He's been convinced to  _ dress the part, _ grabbing a crimson button down with a tailored black suit to go with it.

An outfit that he's sure is going to get good and wrinkled during the flight over.

"How are we doing this?" He asks Joey, who's already in the ikon suit. It hides his face, which isn't ideal, but that's the only way the suit  _ works. _ Joey needs the face mask for finer control, showing only his hair as he pulls it up.

"Like this," he says in Jason's ear, wrapping his arm across Jason's back, under his arm. "Yours over my shoulders. I should be able to hold your weight for an easy flight."

"Was half expecting for you to insist on carrying me bridal style," Jason says as Bruce huffs, folding his arms over his chest, and he spots Slade heading towards them. "Oops, time to go," he says with a wink towards his dad.

"Jason," Slade says in a tone so serious that despite his joke, Jason makes no move to go, and Joey clearly feels the same way. "I know you'll be just fine, but call us when you're done, alright?"

"Of course," Jason says. "I'll call you as soon as I'm done."

Jason's flown before, but flying with Clark or Jon is a  _ very _ different experience from flying with Joey. For one, Clark is a lot more... sturdy. Even  _ Jon _ feels more sturdy. Joey's basically just a particularly strong human being, not an alien who can bench press a truck.

For another, he's a hell of a lot more aware of how his body is making contact with Joey's than he ever was with Clark. There's...  _ stuff _ there. Feelings. Feelings he definitely didn't have with Clark.

If he gets an erection before his interview he's going to die of shame, so he instead thinks of the least sexy thing he can imagine which has about the same effect as dumping a bucket of ice water on his head. He's good and subdued by the time they reach the roof, and Jason's happy Slade called ahead, because there are people already waiting for them, gawking up at the two of them as Joey descends to the roof.

"Morning!" Jason calls down, and when they land he makes a point of adjusting his suit. There's a photographer there, looking absolutely baffled, and Jason wonders if he thought he'd ever have to take pictures of people descending from the sky like they just did.

"Mister Wayne," a young man says. "We're-"

"Wilson-Wayne," Jason corrects, and the man falters, glancing over his shoulder and getting a shrug from a man who's probably his boss.

"Mr. Wilson-Wayne," he says, trying again. "It's good to see you. We have things set up downstairs, if you'd like...?" His eyes wander over to Joey like he has absolutely no idea what to make of them, and Jason ignores it entirely, nodding.

"Of course," he says. "Show me the way."

Absolutely no one has any idea what to do with Joey as they take the elevator down to the studio, a fact which Joey seems to find  _ hilarious. _

"I was going to take off the mask," Joey says through the earpiece, "but everyone's so spooked by my presence that I'm going to just leave it on for now."

One of Bruce's conditions when he set the whole thing up is that the interview won't be live. He's  _ also _ made sure to get Jason veto rights on any questions which might compromise someone's safety. It's not the first interview Jason's given, just by  _ far _ the most high profile one, and he's trying not to let his nerves show as he's offered coffee, water, and a variety of snacks.

He spots her coming before she reaches the studio, her heels clicking against the tile, and Jason pops the remains of the danish into his mouth before turning to face her.

"Miss Vale," he says. "Fancy meeting you here."

He can't bring himself to be particularly surprised that she's there. In fact, he's pretty sure that she's the one doing the interview.

"I told my boss I'd walk and take all my Luthor reporting with me if he didn't let me have this interview," she says with a sly smile. "That's the penalty for killing so many of my Batman stories. Did you know I'd once pegged Bruce Wayne as the most likely person to be Batman?"

"But didn't get to publish," Jason says.

"He was worried Bruce would lawyer up," Vicki says. "Technically, Batman was a criminal at that point, and claiming he was a criminal could open us up to a lawsuit."

Jason wonders if whoever allowed Vicki to take the interview knows that it isn't the first time they've met, and suspects the answer is  _ no. _

"Who's your friend?" Vicki asks, looking Joey over.

Joey, amused at finally being addressed, reaches up to pull down his mask before offering his hand.

"This is Joey," Jason says. "Why drive down when I could fly?"

"Why indeed," Vicki says. "I assume your father already filled you in?"

"I have veto rights on questions, you're going to try to stay on topic, interview lasts until one of us calls it... anything else?"

"That's about it," Vicki says, glancing to Joey again. "Will he be joining us?"

"Hanging out in the room," Jason says. "Off camera, though."

"That's fine with me," she says. "Shall we get started?"

It's a simple enough setup. Two chairs, a coffee table. It's intended to be normal and neutral, to not draw attention from the interview itself. Jason settles into one chair as Vicki takes the other, adjusting her outfit as Jason does the same.

Jason's pretty sure that if this was his first interview he'd be screaming, but he  _ has _ had media training, and he does his best to remember the lessons Bruce drilled into him about how to handle things.

"I've already got the intro recorded," Vicki says. "So we can hop right into things. We've got multiple cameras going, and it'll all be heavily edited for time."

"Go right ahead," Jason says, his eyes drifting over to where Joey stands, watching the interview from behind one of the cameras. Jason tears his eyes away, trying to put Joey entirely out of his mind.

"So, this is the first time anyone in your family has spoken to the press since that absolutely amazing press conference a few weeks ago," Vicki says. "Any reason you're speaking to us now?"

"We asked for privacy to give us time to recover," Jason says. "We'd never planned to go completely silent, but did need some time to recover, both physically and emotionally."

"Your father was injured, wasn't he? How is he?"

"He recently went back in for surgery to help minimize the damage," Jason says. "But he'll have some amount of permanent damage from it."

"I'm sure I'm not the only one who's wishing him a speedy recovery," Vicki says. "Gotham owes him a great deal for everything he's done for us, both as Bruce Wayne and also as Batman."

"I'll be sure to pass it on," Jason says.

"I think everyone in the city's familiar with Mr. Wayne, but I don't think many of us know much of anything about his husband, Slade Wilson. I looked into it myself, and there are  _ very _ few details about him that are public."

"He's a private man," Jason says, which might be the understatement of the century. He knew Slade would come up, and this is something they've talked about enough that he doesn't feel worried. Unless she accuses him outright of being Deathstroke, he can handle it just fine.

"How did they meet?"

"Bruce and Slade?" Jason asks. "Through work. Slade worked in personal security."

"Which makes sense, considering he eventually joined your father, operating as the Gotham Knight. Quite the romance."

"Actually," Jason says, trying not to sound  _ too _ smug, "I was already operating as Batman when we brought Slade on as part of the team."

"Well, that takes care of one of my questions," Vicki says with a laugh. "I'm sure this is a question a lot of people have had: any connection to the Arkham Knight?"

Jason is so,  _ so _ happy that Slade prepared him for this  _ exact _ question. If he'd been asked unprompted, he's not sure what bullshit he'd have pulled out of his ass in response.

"In a way," Jason says. "Slade wanted to... reclaim it, I guess. Make it a symbol of hope for Gotham, rather than fear."

"A sentiment I'm sure we're all thankful for," Vicki says. "Especially the Gotham Knights! Have they reached out to your family at all?"

"I can't say," Jason says with a wink. He has absolutely no idea, but he's pretty sure he wouldn't hear it even if they had. "That'd be a question for someone else."

"If they haven't, they absolutely should. What could be better than the Gotham Knight in Gotham Knights' gear?"

Vicki pauses, checking her notes in a moment Jason's sure is going to be cut, and as she does she glances up, her tone different than the one she uses while on camera.

"Doing alright?"

"Just fine," Jason says.

She tucks the note away, clearly getting back to business.

"So," she says, "is it true you've actually retired?"

"Yes," Jason says, "we all retired."

"Completely?"

"We no longer run patrols or launch investigations," Jason says. "If we hear anything, it gets passed either to the Justice League or Gotham's police department."

"But if a crime happened..."

"Then I'd do what I'd hope any citizen of Gotham would and help as much as I can. If a crisis happens, we aren't going to sit at home because we're retired... we've just accepted that Gotham doesn't need a pack of vigilantes dealing with muggings anymore."

"I can only imagine you have mixed feelings about that."

Jason doesn't answer right away, his mind wandering, and then he shakes his head.

"For me? I... think it was time. I'd thought about it before, actually. It's hard to focus on work while  _ also _ running patrols multiple nights a week."

"Are you still planning to run Wayne Outreach?"

"Of course," Jason says. It'd have to be pried from his cold, dead hands. "I'm taking some time off to adjust, but I'm eager to get back to work."

"You still live in Wayne Manor, correct?"

Jason already doesn't like where this is going, but he nods anyway.

"Records say you lived on your own for a while before returning to the manor. Any reason for that?"

Okay, maybe it won't be so bad. This isn't a question he's prepared for, but he can easily handle it, offering a casual smile.

"At that point it was just Bruce and me in the manor," Jason says. "Bruce is a great dad, but he was getting a bit overbearing, so I decided to try living on my own."

"What got you to move back?"

"Someone broke into my apartment a few years back," Jason says with a snort. "That, combined with Damian coming to live with us, meant I wanted to be at home."

"Your brother," Vicki says, tapping her fingers on her thighs. "As far as anyone could tell, he came completely out of nowhere. Unusually, his birth records were actually  _ sealed, _ and won't be available for years still. Care to share anything on that?"

Jason almost says  _ no, _ but decides it would probably sate people's curiosity to give a bit of information instead.

"His mother is someone who is no longer in the picture," Jason says, "but who knew Bruce's identity before it went public. For obvious reasons, that complicated things, and having the records sealed kept things from getting even more complicated."

"He is Bruce's biological son, yes?"

Jason keeps his smile, even if it feels extra stiff.

"He's Bruce's son," Jason says. "The same way that he's Slade's son."

Vicki's smart enough to back the hell off.

"Of course," she says. "You have two older brothers, correct?"

"Dick and Tim," Jason says. "They both have their own lives, and would like to request privacy as much as possible. Those of us living at the manor can expect a certain amount of public attention, but both of them would prefer to be left alone as much as possible."

"You have a good relationship with them?"

"Yes," Jason says, suspecting she's fishing for one of the two to be estranged. "They come by regularly."

"You have a nephew-"

"I'd like to cut that question," Jason says. "No offense, but I don't want to talk about a kid who  _ really _ doesn't need more attention then he's already gotten."

"That's fair enough," Vicki says, pulling out her notes again and skimming down it. "We'll cut that line of questioning entirely in editing, all the way back to my flub about  _ biological sons." _

"Not exactly the most tactful question to ask," Jason says with a small snort.

"I  _ was _ going to ask a bit about Bruce's interest in fostering and adoption, but it's probably a bit off topic."

That's... not as bad as he thought, actually. He hadn't given it any thought before right then, but now that he has, there's a good opportunity there to highlight the system as a net  _ positive _ for a lot of people.

It's something he'll have to bring up to Bruce.

"Alright, going to lead in with some softer questions," Vicki says, straightening up as she gets back into  _ interview mode. _ "So you were Batman for quite a few years. Any stories there?"

"I could tell stories for days," Jason says. "I think one that deserves some recognition is actually what happened to me on the Night of the Owls. I know there was a lot of confusion about what happened there, and to clarify, I was actually seriously hurt. One of the Talons, the same things that made so much trouble a few nights later, tried to kill me. It probably would have... except for the fact that three of Gotham's citizens saw what was happening and took it upon themselves not just to kill the Talon, but to make sure I got to the hospital. For obvious reasons they couldn't get much recognition, but I did want to thank them for that. Honestly, for all the people who helped me at that point."

"They knew who you were?"

"They saw me without my cowl, I'm pretty sure," Jason says. "So yeah. Pretty sure even at that point I was public enough for them to recognize me."

"Well, I'm sure they'll hear. You have a message for them?"

"Of course," Jason says. He turns to look at the camera more directly, giving a little nod. "Thanks to Al, Nick, and Gert for saving my life. It means a lot, as you can imagine. If you ever need anything, you know who to call."

When he glances back, Vicki's eyebrows are furrowed together, her look of focus intense.

"...Was that Gertrude Hill?" She asked. "The Gotham Inquirer published an article claiming you were the second Batman, a fact which was largely dismissed, in part because of a woman who claimed the real batman was..." Vicki  _ barely _ contains a laugh. "Supermodel gorgeous, wasn't it?"

Jason groans.

"Don't remind me," he says. "For the record, we didn't ask her to do that - she did that all on her own."

"But Michael Lane?"

"Was fudging the details to keep the secret," Jason says. "I'm not going to try and pretend like we didn't, because we did. It was an inevitability with things as they were."

"I could spend all day grilling you on them," Vicki says, "but I think we've all accepted that as a fact you have to accept when you know the truth."

"Saves me a lot of trouble," Jason says.

"It was announced a few weeks ago that the Justice League had made contact with another dimension," Vicki says. "There were also rumors that your team were forced to fight their doppelgangers."

"Not true," Jason says. "If anything, the reverse was. Both Slade and Bruce actually ended up in another dimension due to an accident on their end. We've since made contact with them again, and got things back to... normal, if you can call it that?"

"As normal as things get," Vicki says. "I actually wanted to wrap up with some questions about you, if that's alright?"

"Sure," Jason says. "Shoot."

Vicki doesn't go easy on him. Instead, she goes right for the throat.

"There are actually quite a few missing years for you," she says. "Early reports said that you were missing, but after that reports did come out that you'd died, even if those were modified after the fact. Anything you care to share about one of the more extreme unsolved mysteries about you?"

His mouth feels dry, and Jason can feel Joey's eyes on him. This isn't a question he's prepared for, just because it's not one he's going to answer. He's not going to self-flagellate. He's not going to bare his secrets to the goddamn  _ media _ in his first interview since they went public.

He opens his mouth to say so—to tell her to cut the question—when it hits him like a blow to the head.

He knows. He knows how to fix things. He knows how to patch the largest, most pressing hole in their story. Deathstroke is dead and Slade is safe, but the Arkham Knight is still an unsolved mystery. Still a question mark whenever anyone writes their story.

He knows how to fix it, and he knows he's never going to have another chance like this one. This is the only opportunity he'll ever get to establish the story.

It's going to hurt like hell to do, though.

"I was kidnapped," Jason says, and Vicki's face falls. He hand comes up to cover the mic, her voice dropping.

"You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," she says, her face pinched with clear worry.

She wants the story, but she  _ also _ probably doesn't want Bruce and Slade coming down on her and tying the footage up in legal action.

"No," Jason says, even though his tongue feels like a stone in his mouth. "I want to." A lie. "I'd rather people hear about it from me then from some tabloid reporter to dig up what they can and it to come out that way." That part, at least, isn't a lie. There's no telling what people could dig up if they knew what to look for. 

Vicki scrutinizes him for a moment, and then settles back into  _ interview mode. _

"I assume that was the reason for the missing person's case?"

"It was," Jason says. Even if he's already resolved himself to say it—even if he already knows what he's going to say—actually saying it feels so much harder than it should. "I made the mistake a lot of people make at that age, and thought I knew what was best. I thought I could solve the issue myself, and it backfired."

His mouth feels so  _ dry. _ But he's already started. He can't back out now.

"I got caught by the Joker," Jason says. "At first Bruce thought I'd been killed, but when he couldn't find a body, he realized I'd been taken. I'm sure people can remember a time when Batman was turning over every stone, and when Bruce was searching for his missing kid... That was why."

"But..." Vicki actually seems to stop herself, and it's clear she's trying to treat the situation with delicacy. "He stopped searching?"

"The Joker sent him a video showing my death," Jason says. "Only the video compromised my identity, meaning he couldn't be public with it. It was a hard time for him, as I think any parent could imagine."

Vicki Vale can  _ taste _ the story. It's like blood in the water near a shark, and it's obvious to Jason that she's holding herself back, trying to keep herself from just rapid firing her questions.

"Obviously the reports of your death are greatly exaggerated," she says. "So what actually happened?"

"I was tortured," Jason says. He's not going to sugar coat it. He's not going to pretend. "The Joker wanted to break me, and he very nearly did. What happened there was... extreme. I won't get into the graphic details, but it's something I'm still recovering from, even years later."

"All that, and you still managed to make it out, rejoin your family, and become Batman," she says. "That's quite a recovery. But how did you make it out...?"

This. This is it.  _ This _ is why he's allowed the questions to be asked at all.

"I want to say that I got lucky, but even now I'm not sure luck had anything to do with it," Jason says with a shake of his head. "I was rescued from captivity for reasons I'm still not sure on."

"By Deathstroke?"

Ooooh. She's right, but the fact that she's right at all means that Vicki Vale knows a  _ hell of a lot _ more than she's let on so far. Vicki developed her reputation by being one of the few investigative journalists in Gotham who won't drop a story when pressured. Just because she's playing nice with him during the interview doesn't mean she's gone into it blind. She's investigated. She probably knows more than she's let on, even with the small slip.

"Yes, actually," Jason says. "Deathstroke was hired to retrieve me from my prison. We'd fought before when I was Robin, so getting help from him was... alarming, to say the least, but the alternative was staying there, and I think I'd have taken help from literally anyone at that point."

Vicki's smarter with her next question. She doesn't guess.

"Deathstroke, for those who don't know, was a mercenary who used to operate around the world. He was famous for both his skill, and for his cost, meaning someone must have paid him a lot of money to get you out."

She doesn't  _ ask, _ but the implication is there: Was it Bruce?

"Saying it like that, I'm sure most people would come to the conclusion you probably have, but no, it wasn't Bruce who hired him. At that point, Bruce still believed I was dead, and after years without any sort of clue, had mostly given up on even recovering a body."

"If not Bruce, then...?"

She's actually leaning forward in her chair slightly, her cool demeanor slipping.

"The Arkham Knight," Jason says. "Deathstroke delivered me to him, but at that point I was... not myself, to say the least. I was largely unresponsive, which I mostly remember as him being disappointed I wasn't responding to his questions."

He leans back in his seat, taking a deep breath. He's already talked through the worst part. He can keep going. The Joker's in the past. This is the part that matters.

"When it became obvious I wasn't going to be useful for whatever it was he had in mind, he hired someone else to keep me from starving myself to death accidentally."

He gives her a small, thin-lipped smile. Tense. Nervous. It's an uncomfortable topic, after all.

"I never found out who the Arkham Knight was after that. I'm not sure what happened to them, or where they went. They might still be out there, or they might have retired, or they might have just changed their name. They definitely had a bone to pick with Arkham, but I never found out why. I guess I have mixed feelings, having found out what he did aside from rescuing me, because while it's undeniable that he helped me, he also did a lot of awful things."

He racks his brain, trying to come up with any possible holes in his story, but he can't come up with any. Everyone who  _ knows _ is dead or won't say a thing. There can't even be that many people who  _ suspect. _ The Arkham Knight's motives are murky at  _ best, _ and even if some of the villains might possibly suspect who he is... that's not enough.

He who speaks first is heard first. The first person to tell their story is often the most readily believed, and now he's spoken first.

"I'm sure you can guess what happened from there," Jason says. "Slade didn't know who I was, just that he was supposed to keep me safe. When he looked into things, he realized who he was guarding and did what he could to help get me back to my family."

"That would explain why you're  _ Wilson-Wayne, _ rather than  _ Wayne-Wilson," _ Vicki says.

"Slade was like a father to me even when I was still struggling to recover. I'd been told a lot of things about his reaction to my disappearance. At that time, I didn't even know he'd been convinced I was dead. Slade helped bridge that gap for me."

It is, in Jason's mind, the best possible scenario. Eventually, something's going to tie the Arkham Knight to him. Eventually, someone's going to ask the wrong question. This is him stopping that. This is him having a  _ story _ ready. This is him tying up the loose ends.

It's also him making  _ damned _ sure that the world knows how much Slade means to him. Slade isn't his father because he married Bruce. Slade was his father  _ first. _ Slade's his  _ dad. _

"That was a lot," Vicki says, "and I think we can end the interview there. Thank you for being with us, and I'll handle the rest of that in post."

Jason sags back in his seat and feels nothing but a flood of relief.

It's over. He's said it. He's put it out there, and now  _ everyone _ is going to know for better or worse.


	55. Chapter 55

"Wow," Vicki says as the cameras go off. "I thought I had a pretty good idea of what was going to be said, but you definitely caught me off guard."

"Caught myself off guard," Jason admits. "I wasn't planning to say anything, but I sort of realized that I was... that I was always going to hear it. If I didn't bring it up now, it would  _ always _ be a question."

"Well, you certainly beat that to the punch," she says, glancing over her shoulder towards Joey. "Your friend can come over if you want, we're not recording anymore."

Joey takes the opportunity, drifting over the moment he's acknowledged.

_ Are you alright? _ He signs, and Jason wonders if he's wary of the earpiece being picked up by equipment.

Or maybe he's just more comfortable signing.

"Fine," he says. "I'll be alright," he corrects.

"Off the record," Vicki says, glancing between the two of them. "He's from the other dimension, isn't he? Not hard to make the connection between a blonde popping up among a pack of dark haired men and all that we know."

Jason glances to Joey, who turns to her and nods. 

"I guessed as much," she says. "I have my own theories, but maybe it's better to keep those to myself." She looks Joey over with clear scrutiny, and Jason wonders just how close to the truth she is. Probably  _ too _ close.

"We're all done?" Jason asks, and she nods quickly.

"All finished," she confirms. "We'll run a few clips tomorrow, and then the full interview the day after. As you can imagine, this is going to be our number one priority unless the world starts ending."

"Hopefully it does," Jason says. "I think we're going to go now though?"

He glances to Joey, who nods a confirmation.

"Roof?" Vicki asks. "I can have someone take you up there and let you out. Flying in was probably a smart plan, because you had people waiting out front."

Mostly tabloids is Jason's guess, and he's eager to avoid them entirely.

They don't discuss where they're going. To Jason, it seems obvious: they'll go home. But it's not until they take off—heading in a direction that is absolutely  _ not _ home—that Jason realizes maybe they should have talked about it beforehand.

"Joey?!" He calls, worried his words will be stolen by the wind even though they're only a few inches apart. Joey signals  _ okay, _ but there's only so much he can sign while using his arm to support Jason in flight, so all Jason can do is go along for the ride.

Thankfully, they aren't going far. Joey takes them through the center of downtown before descending onto the roof of the tallest building: Wayne Enterprises.

_ I thought you might enjoy the view, _ Joey signs once he's let Jason go.

Jason's never given much thought to the  _ view. _ It isn't the first time he's been up on the roof, just the first time in a while, but it's clear from Joey's expression that he's thinking of it as a big thing, and Jason sort of lets himself just... feel like it is. It's not the first time seeing the view, just the first time seeing the view with  _ Joey, _ so he tries to look at it with fresh eyes.

Gotham is still Gotham, but it feels different when he's viewing it with his legs dangling off the edge of a skyscraper, Joey's arm wrapped around his waist for support as they look out over it.

"I'm not as smooth a flier as Superman," Joey admits through the earpiece.

"You do just fine," Jason says. "Flying is... an experience. I'm kind of envious of the fact that you can just fly around."

"I'm kind of envious that you can just... tell people about things. Just talk about your problems like that."

Jason glances, and finds Joey looking solemn as he stares down at the city.

"You talked about things with us," Jason reminds him. "I've been working on my issues for years. You can't beat yourself up for that. You're doing well here. You're adjusting. Hell, you're doing better than I'd be doing if our positions were reversed."

He doesn't even want to imagine what things would be like for him if he'd ended up in the other world. A world where Slade barely even knows who he  _ is. _ Where he's effectively a stranger to Damian. Where he's still on the outs with Bruce.

The idea makes him shiver, and he pulls a bit tighter to Joey.

"I'm here if you want to talk," he says. "Any time, for any reason, about anything."

Joey doesn't talk to him. Instead he reaches down, his free hand tangling into the fabric of Jason's shirt, and uses that as leverage to pull Jason into a kiss.

He doesn't fight it. God, he  _ wants _ it, even if everyone's telling him to go slow. He wants the affection, wants the feeling of Joey up against him, and the taste of Joey on his lips is enough to drive him absolutely insane. His arms wind around Joey's sides, pulling him closer, and Joey deepens the kiss.

The noise Jason makes is significantly more high pitched and needy then he intends it to be (not that he really intends to make any noise at all), and he presses in closer, eager for more contact.

Or at least he is right until someone clears their throat loudly behind them.

Jason jumps, but Joey jumps  _ more, _ very nearly toppling off the roof, and Jason catches his wrist on pure instinct before realizing it's unnecessary. Joey's half fallen, but he's stopped his own descent with the suit, straightening up as they turn back.

Lucius is there, because of  _ course _ it's Lucius, tapping his foot on the roof and looking distinctly unimpressed.

"Oh," Jason says, his face going redder by the second. "Hi Lucius."

"You are aware we have cameras on the roof, correct?" He says, folding his arms across his chest. "And that our security staff were in the process of losing their minds and preparing to call the police because someone  _ flew up onto the roof?" _

All of those are  _ very _ good points, none of which had occurred to Jason before  _ right _ then.

"Sorry," Jason mumbles to himself. "We were just... enjoying the view."

_ Sorry, _ Joey signs, unaware that Lucius probably can't understand him.

"It's not an issue," Lucius says. "I intervened before it became one, anyway. Would you like to come inside, or...?"

"Oh no," Jason says. "I just - I need to call Bruce, and then I should probably stop by Outreach. Michael has some things for me to sign."

"Of course," Lucius says, his eyes flicking up and down Joey. It takes Jason too long to realize he's looking at the suit, one that he's no doubt  _ very _ familiar with, considering he looked into the ikon suits before.

"Sorry," Jason says again. "Didn't mean to..."

"Really, it isn't an issue," he says. "Tell your father I say hello, and that I hope to hear about his speedy recovery."

Jason texts Bruce letting him know things are alright, and he'll be home soon, and then turns his attention back to Joey.

"You know where Outreach is?"

_ I can find it pretty easily, _ Joey signs.  _ Or you can just point. _

Joey doesn't hook an arm across Jason's back. Instead, he bends down, scooping Jason into his arms with a yelp, and pushes off before Jason has the chance to protest.

"Joey you  _ dick,"  _ Jason hisses, wrapping his arms around Joey's neck to keep himself from falling. He's not afraid of heights, but being carried bridal style is  _ not _ a dignified way to arrive at your place of work, especially not clinging to someone's neck like your life depends on it (because it sort of does).

"You put the idea into my head," Joey says through the earpiece, "and I knew I probably wasn't going to get another chance."

Jason is  _ not _ a small guy, and the fact that Joey's just carrying him like he's nothing is... alright, whether he's willing to admit to himself or not, it  _ does _ things to him. He's good and flustered by the time Joey drops down onto the roof of Wayne Outreach, setting him onto his feet.

Jason—for the  _ second _ time that day—is forced to think of the least sexy thing imaginable to get himself back in check.

Which is mortifying in and of itself.

There's no one waiting for them on the roof, but Jason lets himself in, punching in the keycode as Joey trails behind him. He makes it down two flights of stairs before he runs into anyone he meets, scaring the  _ hell _ out of poor Alice.

"Jason!" She yelps. "When - I thought you were still at home?!"

"Just stopping by to sign things. Michael isn't around, is he?"

"He's claimed your office while you're busy," she says, leaning slightly to get a better look at Joey and his  _ obviously-a-vigilante _ suit.

"New member of the League?"

"Nope," Jason says, providing no other explanation. "Hoping to be back soon, though, so expect me to start showing up more now that things are quieting down."

"Things never quiet down with you," Alice says with a sigh. "We're due for an invasion from space at any moment."

"Knock on wood," Jason says with a laugh, starting down the stairs again. There's a few more people he makes small talk with on his way to the office, but he makes it there without too much trouble.

"Michael!" Jason calls as he pops open the door, only to find Michael shooting him a glare, apparently midway through a phonecall.

"Actually, that's him right now," Jason says, "and I'm sure he'd love to talk to you about it."

He shoves the phone into Jason's hand, and Jason has no choice but to wing it, playing along as he listens to someone on the other line drone on about... something. A contract for supplies for their clinics?

Something like that.

_ You look good sitting behind a desk like that, _ Joey signs with a sly smile on his face, and Jason goes pink with embarrassment, unable to miss the  _ connotations. _ He's starting to suspect Joey likes riling him up and is actively going out of his way to do just that.

Michael misses the signs entirely, dropping a stack of paperwork in front of Jason as he listens to the call, multi-tasking as he works through them.

He's only planning to be there for a half an hour tops, but the call takes a full hour, and by the end Jason's sagged so deep into his chair he's threatening to slide onto the floor by accident.

"Never do that again," Jason says as he sets the phone down. "Why would you do this to me? This is just cruel."

"Stop whining," Michael says, collecting the paperwork. "You would not  _ believe _ the questions I've been having to field about you."

"I can imagine, actually," Jason says. "We just got back from an interview with Vicki Vale."

"Was it the disaster I'm thinking?"

"I think it went fine," Jason says, glancing to Joey for confirmation, and he nods. "See? Joey thought it went just fine too."

"Joey's biased," Michael says, and Jason goes stiff.

Michael rolls his eyes.

"It's obvious," he says. "He landed carrying you bridal style and you go pink half the time he's talking to you. If you're trying to hide it, you're doing a  _ terrible _ job."

Jason buries his face in his hands. He's going to die of embarrassment before the day's over, isn't he?

Jason is  _ not _ prepared for Joey to plant his hand on the desk, leaning over as he reaches down to catch Jason's chin, tilting his head back. Jason's hands fall away, his face going even  _ redder _ as Joey leans forward, pressing a kiss to Jason's mouth as he leans across the desk.

He is  _ absolutely _ going to die.

The only mercy is that Joey doesn't drag it out, breaking the kiss not long after it starts and shooting him a grin.

_ Time to go home? _ He signs.  _ I'll even carry you how you want. _

As much as he protested the first time, Jason tells himself the damage is already done and lets Joey carry him bridal style back home anyway.


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning this chapter for brief mentions of fucked up torture.

The flight home is an easy one, and mercifully there's no one waiting on the ground when they descend into the manor. Jason has a chance to get out of Joey's arms before Titus darts around the back of the house, shooting towards them with his tail wagging.

He gives Titus a good scratch before they head inside, finding Bruce and Slade just outside the kitchen, clearly waiting for them.

"So?" Slade asks with a raised eyebrow. "How'd it go?"

Jason tells them, and midway through the story he catches Bruce pinching the bridge of his nose, even if he waits till the end for the lecture.

_ I wish you'd told us what your plan was, _ Bruce signs.

"Didn't have it until it was happening," Jason confesses. "I was going to just turn the question down, and then I realized."

_ Wait, you did that on the fly? _ Joey signs.  _ You didn't have that planned? _

"He's adaptable," Slade says, glowing with pride. "Always was great at rolling with the punches."

The lecture Jason's expecting doesn't come. For the most part, Bruce and Slade both seem to agree it's the best possible story they could come up with, given the circumstances. Anyone who could possibly contradict is either dead, on their side, or unlikely to be believed. Jason thinks that Scarecrow  _ might _ know who he is, but no one's going to believe it was anything other than a hallucination.

"How's Cassandra doing?" Jason asks as the conversation winds down.

Bruce offers a shrug.

"Hiding in the library, I think," Slade says. "Your brother ran off to work on the path with the Kent boys, and Alfred and Wintergreen made a big announcement about spring cleaning the library. Last I saw, she snuck after them."

_ Might be for the better, _ Joey signs.  _ Letting her choose where to go and all. _

"I think she likes them," Slade says with a shrug. "Alfred told me she's been hanging around them in the mornings before we wake up. Normally, someone else getting up is the sign she needs to go hide."

Jason consider the possibilities and can only shrug. He doesn't have enough data to really understand what it is that she's up to. She just sort of  _ is. _ Originally he was worried she'd be wary around Wintergreen, or maybe Slade, but instead she doesn't seem to be particularly wary of  _ anyone. _

Instead she's kind of wary of  _ everything. _

They make an attempt at cutlery that night, and to everyone's  _ immense _ surprise, Cassandra does just fine. It's a little bit awkward, but she simply stares at everyone else and how they're eating, and then mimics the gestures perfectly.

"Should have seen that coming," Slade grumbles to himself.

"You should have," Damian agrees.

With things having gone so well for the interview, Jason's in a damned good mood by the time dinner's wrapping up.

"Lucius says hi," Jason says. "So does Michael."

"How's his arm?" Slade asks, and it seems to Jason that Slade is  _ pointedly _ not asking why Jason saw Lucius that day.

"Out of the sling," Jason says. "A bit stiff, but he's making do."

Michael's always healed faster than he should, and Jason wonders if people have started noticing that now that they know he worked with the bats.

"Speaking of," Jason adds with a pointed look to Bruce. "When are the bandages coming off?"

_ Tomorrow, _ Bruce signs.  _ Doctor's coming by to check on it and make sure everything's healing right. _

Jason wants to see his scar. Maybe he shouldn't, but he  _ needs _ to know how bad it is. He needs to know what he'll be looking at.

That thought carries him through the evening, even when he should be thinking of other things. Even when he should be focusing on the extra work Michael sent him, or even working on the letters he's writing, he can't.

Instead, he retires to his room early to finally do his homework.

He wants it to be over. He wants it to be  _ done. _ To no longer have to go to therapy every week, to no longer feel sick at the idea of looking himself in a mirror. He wants to be  _ normal, _ to not dread the idea of Joey looking at him without his shirt on.

He starts slow. He starts the way Hudson would want him too, dragging his fingers across the safe scars. The ones Slade gave him. The ones he's already explored, and the new ones.

He gets impatient. He  _ knows _ it's him being impatient, but that doesn't stop it from happening. Doesn't stop him from peeling off his shirt completely and staring at himself in the mirror.

Maybe it's not as bad as he imagined, but it's still  _ bad, _ and every scar his eyes settle on has some new horrible story it brings to mind. Stories he hasn't thought about in years. Stories he doesn't  _ want  _ to think about. There are the dots just across his pectoral where Harley and the Joker played darts. There's the line of scars from when the Joker decided to take up smoking just so he could blow it into Joey's face. There's the scar—deep enough to have a visible dent even aside from the discoloration—where the Joker took a piece to make Jason tell him if Robin  _ really _ tasted like chicken.

The only good part is that he's already in the bathroom and doesn't have far to go to the toilet. He vomits up his dinner and spends the next hour trying to stop his mind from racing. He bundles himself in towels to hide the scars, but it doesn't do much to help, and in the end the only thing that stops him from vomiting more is that there's no longer anything to vomit.

He doesn't risk a shower that night. Instead he rinses his mouth in the sink and uses a washcloth to clean what's left. He keeps his eyes firmly closed as he changes into his pajamas, and then crawls into bed to sleep.

Sleep won't come. His brain still hasn't calmed down, and shows no signs of doing so any time soon. He still feels sick, but he also feels  _ hungry, _ and he suspects he's dehydrated even if he doesn't really feel it.

He hopes he won't run into anyone as he leaves his room, heading for the kitchen. He makes it there, grabs a granola bar and some water, and is almost back in his room before he spots anyone at all.

Even then, he doesn't quite  _ spot _ them. Cassandra's lurking in the shadows, and he barely catches sight of her out of the corner of his eye. If he were anyone else, he's sure he'd never have seen her at all.

"Cass," he says, and he's sure he sounds exhausted. "Not up to anything, just thirsty."

She slips forward out of the shadows into the dim light that the moon provides through the windows, but she just  _ stands _ there, staring at him.

He doesn't know what she wants. Really, that feels like a universal constant: the family keeps going about their lives, but they have no idea if what they're doing is right or wrong for her. Maybe she hates it. Maybe she's better for it.

"This would be a lot easier if you talked," Jason mutters to himself. "I know it's probably asking too much, but just... confirmation would be nice. Seriously, we'll do pretty much anything if you just... let us know."

He's hoping for a nod. Confirmation of his request for confirmation. Instead he gets nothing but more staring, and Jason groans and turns away.

"Going to bed," he announces. "See you in the morning."

It isn't until he's back in his room that he realizes what Cassandra's presence means.  _ Someone _ has to be keeping an eye on her, which means Slade most likely saw him on camera in the kitchen.

Fantastic.

Just what he needs.


	57. Chapter 57

Jason doesn't even want to get out of bed the following morning. He feels like  _ absolute _ shit, and the prospect of having to stand naked in the shower seems like an impossible task.

In the end he doesn't. He grabs a housecoat, attempts to tame his hair, and then goes to breakfast without having showered at all.

Joey and Wintergreen shoot him confused looks, but everyone else in the house is familiar enough to know what it means. It's not the first time he's been unwilling to risk glancing downward, and none of them comment on it.

Well, almost none of them. Slade makes a point of planting a kiss on the top of his head before acting like everything is completely normal, and Jason feels his eyes water automatically.

He's not sure what he did to deserve his family, but he's happy they're there anyway.

He feels a bit better closer to lunch and risks a shower. He feels better once he's clean, even if he's extra careful not to look, and he spends the early afternoon pushing himself in the gym to make up for it.

He was doing better, he reminds himself. Setbacks are only temporary.

Joey seems to hover nearby, his concern obvious, and as personal as it is, Jason wishes someone would just pull him aside and tell him that it's nothing. He's not prepared for when Joey touches his back as he steps around him to get to the rowing machine, and Jason jerks away like he's been burnt.

Joey looks so  _ upset _ that it feels like a kick to the gut.

_ Sorry, _ he signs.  _ I didn't mean to touch you. _

"It's fine," Jason blurts. "It's - It's just - it's a..." He doesn't know how to put it into words. A  _ bad day _ is right, but doesn't have the same feeling.

_ Bad mental health day, _ Joey finishes for him, and Jason feels a flood of relief that he doesn't have to figure out how to explain.  _ I get it, _ Joey adds,  _ I was the same way sometimes. Some days are worse than others for no good reason. _

Joey's had his own troubles, even if sometimes it's hard for Jason to accept it. He feels like his own troubles are obvious to everyone around him, while Joey? Joey seems perfectly normal. Well adjusted, even with his absolutely absurd circumstances.

"Yeah," Jason says quietly. He knows why this one is worse than others, but doesn't want to talk about it.

_ If you need anything, _ Joey signs,  _ just ask. _

"Of course," Jason says, already knowing he'll do no such thing. He's asked enough of Joey. "Did you have any plans today?"

_ I was... _ Joey starts to sign, before hesitating, clearly second guessing himself before finally finishing the thought.  _ I was actually going to go into town and see it for myself a bit. _

The statement feels weird—Joey's been in town enough—but Jason doesn't push.

"Car, or flying?"

_ I was going to fly, _ Joey signs.  _ Easier. I'll keep a low profile. _

"Easier said than done when you're flying," Jason says, forcing a smile he doesn't quite feel.

He knows it's paranoia. He knows he has nothing to worry about. But his stomach still flips at the idea anyway, and he has to make a conscious effort to push the idea away.

Joey doesn't kiss him, but he does tentatively reach down, taking Joey's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"I'll be back before dinner," he says through the earpiece, and Jason gives him a small nod before Joey pulls away.

Joey's good to his word—he gets back after only two hours, long before dinner. Everyone collects together for the five o'clock news, watching a few highlights from Jason's interview. There's something absolutely  _ surreal _ about watching himself talk, and he wonders how much of his nerves are obvious to everyone else.

They play the bit about Bruce's injury, the bit about the name  _ the Gotham Knight, _ and then the bit where Jason reassures everyone that they won't look the other way if some crisis happens. It doesn't take more than a few minutes, and then Vicki teases the whole interview with some  _ stunning reveals _ to come the next day.

"That was underwhelming," Slade announces right as the security system beeps that a flier's entered the area.

It's Clark, who looks horrifyingly embarrassed as he knocks at the back door.

"Hi," he says. "Long story short, Ren tried to help with dinner and accidentally set the stove on fire, so we can't use it, and my parents just called and they're going to be here in two hours, and-"

"Say no more," Slade says, interrupting Clark's ramble. "We've got it."

The house rapidly becomes a mad scramble to prepare dinner for everyone. They have eight, the Kents have ten, and Alfred puts them all to work getting things ready for such a large group. Jason gets assigned to ferrying food back and forth, helping coordinate between the different groups.

"I'm so sorry," are the first words out of Lois's mouth when she arrives with the boys, each carrying some food. "We were halfway through..."

"It's fine," Jason says as he starts directing the boys. "Really. Al's got this."

Jason rapidly gets reassigned to watching the boys, who can't quite be trusted on their own just yet. He catches them exploring the front of the house, and even worse, catches them backing Cassandra into her windowsill.

"Ohhh no," Jason says loudly. "Get down here right this instant."

He was told once upon a time that he had a  _ commanding voice, _ and apparently it works, because Yen and Ore both drop back down to the floor rather than flying up towards Cass.

"That's Cass," he says to the pack of clones, wondering just where Jon's gotten too. "She's living with us now, but you have to be nice to her."

"Or what?" Gar says with a scowl.

Jason doesn't dignify that with an answer, giving Gar a  _ look _ instead.

"I'll keep him in line," Ren says. "Why isn't she talking? Is she like Joey?"

"No, she's just not talking yet," Jason says. "Where'd your litt-"

"Big," Yen corrects.

"Where did your  _ big _ brother go?"

Three of the boys point towards the ballroom, and Jason's right about to herd them towards it when the security system goes off, alerting him that someone's waiting at the gate.

"I GOT IT!" Jason hollers, heading for the system and peeking through the camera.

Shit. The doctor. Jason had completely forgotten he was supposed to come, and he decides that there's no shame in taking advantage of the extra hands.

"Yen," he calls, "can you go grab Bruce and tell him the doctor's here? Ren, take your brothers and go find Jon and Damian."

They're good at following instructions, and Jason buzzes the doctor in, glancing up towards Cassandra. She seems even more closed off than usual, and Jason can't entirely blame her for it.

"Cass," he says, waiting for her to look at him before he continues. "We have a lot of people over, and if you don't want to eat with us, that's fine. That said, I can't exactly keep my eye on  _ all _ of them, so if you want privacy... your room might be better."

A raised platform might keep the bats away from her without effort, but every Kent except Lois  _ flies, _ and the clones' natural curiosity is going to be a problem.

He meets the doctor at the door, leading him in, and gets a few odd looks from the sheer amount of  _ noise _ farther into the house. He doesn't even notice Cassandra watching the whole thing, and Jason makes sure Bruce and the doctor get a private space for him to do his work as he waits outside.

There's another  _ beep _ and Jason lets out a groan, yelling another  _ got it _ as he heads to the security panel.

It's the Kents. Or at least he's 90% sure it's Clark's parents. He's only met them once, but squinting at the panel isn't helping any, so he hits the call button and waits for them to speak.

"This is - this is the Wayne house, right? We got the right place?" The man says, which pretty much seals the deal. He's  _ definitely _ from Smallville.

"That's us," Jason says. "Let me buzz you in and I'll meet you outside."

He leaves Bruce and the doctor behind, heading down to the front of the house. The Kent's have a truck with a large trailer hooked to the back, and Jason waves them in, making sure the gate's closed after them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent?" Jason asks as they climb out, and they both turn towards him. To Jason's distinct  _ lack _ of surprise, Clark's mother makes a point of pulling out a giant tray of food out of the back seat, covered with tinfoil and clearly ready to pop into the oven.

"That's us!" She says. "Clark said we should come here first because they had an accident at the house."

"Small fire," Jason says. "They're working on it. Come on in."

He leads them inside right as the doctor's about to leave, and Jason is  _ immensely _ relieved to spot Cassandra is out of the windowsill, even if he wishes he knew where she was.

He barely has a chance to glance at Bruce as he makes sure the Kents get to where they need to be (with Lois), and then helps herd the clones into the appropriate room to meet their grandparents.

It's only  _ then _ that he gets to double back to find Bruce.

"Let me see," he says, and Bruce turns to show him. The injuries still there, fresh and raw, but the stitches are neatly hidden, and the external injury is hidden by clear tape holding it closed. It... doesn't actually look as bad as he worried, and he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees it.

"Jason," Bruce says, and Jason shoots him a disapproving look which Bruce shoots right back. "The doctor cleared me to speak as long as I'm careful." He speaks each word like he had to hand pick it, his mouth moving very little. "You look... exhausted."

Jason  _ feels _ exhausted, but there's no time for anything but getting things in order, so it's not as if he can just go lie down.

"Go lie down," Bruce says, catching him off guard.

"What? We have guests-"

"You're running yourself into the ground," Bruce says. "We have enough people we can handle things. Go rest a bit, and I'll send someone to grab you before we start to eat."

Jason grunts. He doesn't really  _ want _ too, but... well, he  _ is _ pretty tired.

"Alright," he says. "But make sure someone gets me, right? I don't want to miss dinner."

Bruce reaches up, ruffling his hair, and Jason catches himself smiling without meaning to.

"Go show Slade your new scar," Jason says, nudging Bruce towards the kitchen. "Might as well get him fawning over you out of the way."

Bruce smiles at that, and it looks lopsided, the one side of his mouth not  _ quite _ lifting the way it should.

But it's still a better smile then he used to have a decade ago.


	58. Chapter 58

Jason doesn't quite sleep. There's not enough time, for one, and for another he's found it harder and harder to sleep with the sun up as he's shifted away from a purely nocturnal lifestyle. His sleep schedule has always been a bit of a disaster, but slowly stepping down from nightly to weekly patrols helped a lot. Having things to do during the day helped even more.

Damian comes to get him just before dinner, and Jason makes a quick stop in the bathroom to get his bed head under control before heading to dinner. If his nap was noticed, no one comments on it, and Jason suspects that with a dozen people in the house, everyone just assumed he was in one of the other rooms.

There's no sign of Cass as food starts getting served, a state of affairs that does  _ not _ go unnoticed.

"Weren't you fostering?" Clark asks, craning his neck around as if expecting an extra child to pop out from between the chairs at any moment.

"She's in her room," Slade says. "Not sure how she-"

"That was me," Jason jumps in. "She was getting stressed and the clones were hemming her in, so I suggested she might do better in her room. Sitting on a second floor windowsill isn't going to help you get some space when half the people in the house can fly."

"If the boys-" Lois starts.

"They were just fine," Jason says. "Just curious."

"We weren't causing trouble," Ore says, "she was just really high up, and we couldn't figure out how she got up there."

"Climbed," Blue speculates. "But there's not really any handholds."

There's a round of speculation from the clones as to how she got so high, and the other half of the table turns their attention back to the  _ original _ point.

"I'll take her some food," Wintergreen says.

"Please," Alfred says. "You're a guest. I can handle it."

"You're family," Wintergreen counters. "Get to know your new neighbours. I'll be gone in a week or two anyway."

"I can't let a guest-"

"You absolutely can and you absolutely will," Wintergreen says, getting up from the table. "Enjoy your dinner."

Alfred huffs, but doesn't attempt to argue any further as Wintergreen goes to grab another plate.

"He's good with her," Alfred says when Wintergreen is out of earshot.

"And he's..." Jonathan Kent says. "A family friend?"

Jason and Bruce both simultaneously look to Slade. Wintergreen is his friend first, and he's the one who gets to decide how to explain him.

"We got back a long way," Slade says. "We knew each other in the military, and when we left, he took over as my handler for my old job."

"Oh, the..." Jonathan says, his voice dropping. "Mercenary stuff?"

Jason's surprised that Clark told them, and the way that Jonathan's wrinkling his nose makes it clear he doesn't approve.

"That's it," Slade says shamelessly.

"He's retired," Bruce says pointedly. "Hasn't worked for years."

"You make me sound  _ lazy,"  _ Slade objects. "I work."

"Debatable," Jason says, giving a quick glance towards the boys. Jon and Damian are in the middle of some kind of hot debate over  _ something _ with the clones, and he lets himself turn his attention back to his side of the table.

"What  _ is _ it that you do?" Lois asks with a grin, knowing damn well the answer is  _ effectively nothing.  _ Slade does a lot around the house, but he sure as hell doesn't have a  _ job. _

"Professional trophy husband," Slade says, and the table erupts with laughter.

Jason likes Clark's parents. He has very little experience with Grandparents, but they make him think of what grandparents are probably  _ supposed _ to be. They show interest in every bit of conversation, thank them profusely for hosting, and make good conversation.

Jason's firmly of the opinion that they'll be great neighbours even before dinner wraps up.

"We should probably get our things to the house," Martha says. "It's already getting dark."

"We'd be happy to help," Bruce says, earning himself a glare from Slade.

_ "You _ are injured. You're not carrying anything heavier than a loaf of bread."

"He can supervise," Alfred says. "I'll stay at the house in case anything is needed."

Jason gets the distinct impression that Bruce is considering abducting Clark's parents as everyone heads down the path towards the Kent's house to meet them there. The path's well groomed, a fact which Damian is clearly  _ very _ proud of, and he practically glows when Lois comments on how much easier it is to go between the houses with a clearly marked and maintained path.

Unpacking the trailer should probably take hours, but the work goes extremely quickly between Clark and his boys.

"So what happened to the farm?" Jason asks as he  _ supervises _ the unloading, having very little to actually do.

"We sold it to a friend of the family," Jonathan says. "The Guerra's have lived beside us since before Clark left, and their little girl just got married and were looking for a farm to take over."

"We like the idea of it staying a family farm," Martha says. "And it means we can always visit Smallville if needed."

"Valentina got married?" Clark asks. "Please tell me it wasn't to Smith."

"Oh no, they broke up ages ago!" His mother said, and the conversation devolves into a lot of gossip that Jason can't hope to follow. They keep throwing in names he has no context for, having never even been in the  _ vicinity _ of Smallville, let alone actually been in the town long enough to learn anyone's names.

He's not the only one.  _ Most _ of the people seem confused, with only Lois having any sort of idea of what's going on.

"Boys, why don't we head back to the house and let the Kent's settle in?" Slade asks, shooting Damian a look before he can dart upstairs with Jon again.

"But-"

"They need some space to themselves," Bruce says. "You'll be able to see them tomorrow."

Joey looks relieved to be getting away from the absolute madhouse that is the Kent home, and everyone says their goodbyes before heading back along the path towards the manor.

Jason's pretty sure that if he hadn't gotten that nap, he'd have dropped already, and Damian looks about ready to do just that as they make it back to the house.

"Alright," Slade says. "Everyone get to bed."

He seems intent on giving Bruce and his injuries all the attention he can manage as he scoots Bruce off to the bedroom.

Jason says his goodnights and doubles back to the kitchen for some water when he runs into Slade, who looks... put out.

"What's up?" Jason asks, taking a drink of his water.

"Put Bruce into bed and went to double check on Cassandra. She's not in her room and she's not on the ledge. Cameras aren't showing her, so she's in a blindspot."

"...Could she have left?" Jason asks, feeling suddenly nervous.

"Checked that first. She's still in the manor."

"Unless she bypassed the security system..."

Slade winces at the idea.

"Let's try and rule everything else first. Help me search?"

There's no way he's going to just leave Slade to it, so he goes to help as well. He checks all the obvious places, winding his way through the house, and leaves Slade to check the extra rooms in the guest wing. 

But of course there's only one place she'd be, and Jason groans when he realizes, ducking into the reading room to head down into the cave via the back entrance.

Of course she's down in the cave. The cave is  _ littered _ with cameras, but only a few are accessible from the house, and there are still plenty of blindspots. It takes a bit for him to spot her up near the ceiling, lingering on one of the upper catwalks that Alfred uses to feed the bats.

"Cassandra!" He calls up, watching her watch  _ him. _ "Come down?"

She doesn't, and Jason sighs, heading to the ladder to scramble up to her.

She's sitting at the edge of the catwalk, watching him approach. Maybe he should be more wary, but the position feels perfect for her. She can escape in multiple directions, and knows  _ exactly _ where he's coming from.

"Sorry about that," he says, deciding to sit so there's no possible threat. It also makes it a little bit easier to focus on signing while he talks. It's not a direct word-for-word translation, which makes it a bit... complex. "I'd like to have introduced you to the Kents, but Clark's parents are moving in to help with the boys—the clones, specifically—so everything's a bit crazy. Did you get enough to eat?"

It's a clear, simple, yes or no question, and he stares at her for a moment before she finally nods.

Oh thank god. It feels like good, solid progress, and Jason's happy for it.

"Good, that's good," he says. "We can do introductions with the Kents when you're a bit more settled."

What else? What is there to talk about?

"Slade was looking for you," Jason says. "He's probably upstairs. We were kind of worried you'd snuck out."

She shakes her head, which is more communication than he's gotten from her since she arrived, and Jason feels emboldened by the improvement.

"How are you doing? Alright? Anything you need?"

Okay, maybe a bit too complex, because she stares at him blankly.

"Well... I should probably go to bed. And you should probably go to bed too."

She reaches down, patting the catwalk, and Jason lets out a small groan.

"I meant in your room. In your bed?"

She pats the catwalk again, and Jason sighs, getting to his feet.

"Alright," he says. "You can... nest here. I'll let Slade know so no one disturbs you, alright?"

It really is like nesting. Like she's a bird that got pulled from the nest and is having to make do with what she has. It's hard for Jason to really get a feel for her, in part because her situation is so different from his own.

He really doesn't have much experience with people her age.

Not that she really acts her age.

"Do you..." He says, pausing for a moment before deciding it's probably better to ask. "Do you know why you were brought here? To us, rather than to anyone else."

He isn't expecting an actual answer, but he gets one. She looks up at him and then shakes her head, as clear a  _ no _ as possible.

"Probably because there's no expectation for you to be like anyone else your age," Jason says. "We don't have any real perspective for someone around your age. We're just... playing by ear. Like... Damian's a lot like you, actually. He didn't have the exact same stuff, but he was raised to be an assassin too. Slade - well, Slade  _ was _ an assassin. So both of them probably have a better idea of what your life is like than most families would."

He doesn't think she knows much about them, but it's hard to say. What did her father tell her about their opponents? Does she even know Slade is deathstroke? She's definitely  _ listening, _ but it's hard to say what effect it is or isn't having.

"So... everyone just kind of hopes you'll like it here," Jason finishes, feeling stupid. "If you need anything, just ask, if you have any questions... you get the idea."

Jason's brain  _ screams _ as Cassandra pulls a knife on him. It's only sheer stubbornness that keeps his feet planted where he is rather than vaulting off the catwalk to safety, and it's a good thing he is that stubborn, because his brain registers it's being held out handle-side first.

It's one of the kitchen knives, and he realizes that it's not just  _ one _ of the kitchen knives, but the one she took before.

She holds it out for him, and he hesitates before reaching out to take it.

"Thanks," he says, tucking it into his belt. "You don't need weapons, alright? House has the best security in the world, and none of us are going to hurt you."

Plus, she seems to be better at improvising weaponry than anyone has any right to be.

He heads up the stairs, finding Slade to let him know he found her. Slade already knows (he saw Jason heading down into the cave and drew his own conclusions), but seems relieved when Jason hands over the knife.

"At least we have progress," he says. "That's something."

"That's something," Jason agrees. "Night Slade."

He kisses his dad on the cheek and heads to bed, hoping the morning shows more progress.


	59. Chapter 59

He feels better the following morning, waking before his alarm. He speeds through a shower, pulls on some clothes, and heads for the kitchen to see if he can help Alfred with breakfast.

It's just Wintergreen and Alfred there when he arrives, both taking their morning tea, but there's a third cup on the table, and Jason raises an eyebrow when he spots it.

"You just missed Miss Cain," Alfred says. "She's started taking morning tea with us."

"Seems to do better in the mornings in general," Wintergreen says, automatically pouring Jason a cup as they mill about getting breakfast ready.

"There's some kind of pattern," Jason grumbles to himself. "Someone she doesn't like or something like that, only I can't... quite put my finger on it."

Wintergreen gives him an amused look, and Jason gets the distinct impression that he's missed something.

"What?"

"You've given this quite a lot of thought," Wintergreen says, "but the answer is quite simple."

He tries. He really does. But he has absolutely no idea what the answer might be, and the fact that it's simple is frustrating rather than helpful.

"I am confident that you'll figure it out," Alfred says, interrupting his obvious attempts at solving the mystery. "Unfortunately, figuring it out does not help the issue in any way. All you can do is continue doing as you already are. Giving her space to adjust, speaking to her kindly, and making room for her in your life."

"I feel like we should be doing more."

"Then you'd just crowd her," Wintergreen points out. "You're doing fine."

Everyone else starts to filter in as they finish getting breakfast ready, and Jason's relieved to see that Cassandra joins them once everyone else is there.

"What are we doing today?" Damian asks between bites of pancakes. "Can I go see Jon?"

Bruce, who's been working his way through tiny bites of pancakes, stops what he's doing, straightening up.

"I was thinking some of us could go see Thomas."

Thomas. Jason's heart jumps at the mention of it, but he might very well be the only one. The mood at the table is less than excited, with Damian looking away awkwardly as Slade busies himself with his pancakes.

"I'm not going to make anyone go," Bruce says. "But if anyone wants to..."

"I'll go," Jason says. "I want to see him."

Bruce smiles his lopsided smile at him, reaching over to ruffle Jason's hair affectionately.

There's no need to ask if anyone else wants to go, because it's clear the answer is no. Jason can't blame anyone for it, but it does feel a bit disheartening.

"Joey," Bruce says, glancing towards him. "I wasn't sure if you would be interested, but Rose was relocated to Blackgate."

_ Could I visit her?  _ He signs, his interest clear.

"If you'd like. I've already set things up as much as possible from outside."

_ I'll go with you then, _ he signs.

"I'm going to see Jon," Damian announces.

Slade glances towards where Cassandra sits before glancing back towards his husband.

"I'm going to stay here and see if I can't get Cassandra a bit more settled."

Even if Joey isn't going to visit Thomas (he signs that it feels like a 'family affair'), having him along for the trip to Blackgate is... comforting. Jason's been to the prison before, but almost always in his role as either Raptor of Batman. Driving up to the visitor parking is a  _ very _ different experience.

"Here," Bruce says, handing Joey a miniature whiteboard, which he stares at in confusion. "I think we established she doesn't know ESL, you won't be able to bring your phone in, and a pencil isn't going to work. So... whiteboard."

"You think they're going to just let that in?" Jason asks.

"No, I think they're going to make a problem of it, and then you're going to show them  _ this," _ Bruce says, producing a card which he hands to Joey.

"What's it say?" Jason says, trying to crane his neck to see.

"They have to make accommodations for things like this as long as they don't make any risk, and she's allowed to have cutlery, and a whiteboard marker isn't going to be any worse than that. So they can let you in with it, or else they can call my lawyer and  _ they'll _ talk about it."

"Or we could just talk to the warden," Jason points out, and Bruce lets out an exasperated sigh.

Jason's starting to suspect that Bruce just wants an excuse to talk now that he's allowed.

"Or that," Bruce says. "But they should let you in with the note."

_ Thanks, _ Joey signs before he grabs it.  _ Different entrances? _

Bruce directs Joey on where to go before heading towards the medium security wing, keeping close to Jason as he does. It's clear enough what he's expecting, and they haven't even made it through the first round of security before it happens.

"Holy shit," one of the guards says, leaning over to look at them. "Bruce Wayne?"

Bruce sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Yes," he says. "Can we keep this... less obvious? I'd rather not draw too much attention."

"Yeah, that's pretty much impossible," one of the guards says. "You're Batman. For that matter, he's also Batman." He points towards Jason, and Jason knows it's going to be a loooooong day.

There's no shortcuts through security as they're guided through things step by step. They have to store almost everything they've brought with them in lockers. They're only allowed to bring thirty dollars each, aren't allowed to bring phones, and Bruce gets extra annoyed when they start through security and he gets turned back to stow his watch. 

They're handed a list of rules (which Bruce has already read and Jason's already skimmed), some forms to fill out, and then made to sit and wait.

"No hugs except at the start and end of the visit," Jason grumbles to himself. "To minimize the risk of contraband being passed." The whole thing feels ridiculous, and Jason has a new appreciation for people who do this sort of thing regularly. The entire process feels miserable.

"Don't remind me," Bruce mutters under his breath.

It takes more than a half hour of sitting in complete boredom before they're called.

"For Wayne?" One of the guard calls, checking his clipboard, and every head in the room turns towards them.

"This is going to be in the news before dinner," Bruce mutters to himself as he raises his hand, getting up and heading for the door.

The visiting room is, in a word, boring. It's just a ton of tables with inmates and their families sitting around talking, but it's easy enough to spot Thomas, already sitting at one of the tables. He looks... different, and Jason's having a hard time putting his finger on why. He supposes it's mostly the clothing, because  _ physically _ Thomas hasn't changed much. He's always seen Thomas at his best, either in the batsuit or something tailored, and the drab prison clothes that don't quite fit him look wrong.

"Thomas," Bruce says, taking one of the seats across from him as Jason joins him. He gives the man who might as well be his father a smile, and Thomas winces.

"I heard you were hurt," Thomas says. "Didn't realize it was that bad."

"It's fine," Bruce says. "Some muscular damage. It'll improve with time."

"It looks like hell," Thomas says. "When'd the bandages come off?"

"Yesterday," Jason says. It's been almost three weeks since Thomas was arrested, and he feels like he's already lost his ability to deal with Thomas.

He guesses that makes sense. Thomas was with them for only two weeks: he's been away from them even longer.

"How's the kid?"

Jason blinks, glancing towards Bruce before turning back to Thomas.

"Who?"

"Joey," Thomas corrects. "Sorry. The mute one."

"He's good," Jason says. "Adjusting."

"Doing better than I did. He still doing the therapy thing?"

"He is," Jason says. Thomas's demeanor is throwing him off. It's not like he's  _ broken, _ just... different.  _ Tempered, _ Jason decides. Less full of fire, some of his rough edges already worn down. "We still go to the same place."

"That's good," Thomas says. "Tell him to stick to it."

There's an awkward silence, and Jason finds himself at a loss for what to say. It's easy enough to say that he's alright with it, but faced with the reality of it? Of the fact that Thomas is going to spend  _ years _ there?

It's crushing him.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asks, and his voice sounds so quiet that it breaks Jason's heart.

"I'm doing fine," Thomas says. "Good to have visitors, and you're keeping my account topped up." He snorts at that, finding some kind of amusement in it. "Having that level of commissary funds made me pretty popular to start."

"Of course," Bruce says, and then cracks a small smile of his own. "I think I can afford it."

Thomas laughs at that, which draws some attention, and they both seem to make an effort to quiet down.

"But you're alright?" Jason asks. He wants to know for sure. He's half tempted to tell Thomas to blink twice if he's under duress.

"Just fine," Thomas says. "No one talks about what got them put in here, but everyone still  _ knows.  _ You know who's in for theft and who's in here because they scammed some old couples out of their life savings. I was here for about a week before someone found out what  _ I _ was in for."

Oh no.

Apparently his alarm shows on his face, because Thomas grins at him, a big wolfish smile.

"Oh no," he says. "Nothing like that. They don't have people here defending them, what they have is a lot of people who either got hurt by them or know someone who was hurt by them. I've yet to meet someone who takes issue with it, but I've met a lot of people who wanted to shake my hand for finally putting a bullet in her."

Bruce winces, but Jason just lets out a sigh of relief. The possibility that Thomas might have been targeted for what he'd done had occurred to him, and hadn't been an idea he'd been able to shake.

"That's good," he says. "That everything is... okay. Normal. That you're adjusting."

"What about you?" Thomas says. "How've you been?"

Jason doesn't know how to answer that. Not right away. He reaches up, dragging his fingers through his hair as he tries to find an answer.

"That bad, huh?"

"No, not - it's not that bad. It's just a lot." He tries to remember everything that happened since Thomas was arrested... But god, it's a  _ lot. _

"Took me a few days to adjust. We... uh, told everyone who we were."

"We saw," Thomas says. "We've got two TVs, and one of them is always on the news. Got to sit and watch the whole thing live." His eyes slide over to Bruce, looking amused. "You let your man make that mess of a speech?"

"I couldn't talk," Bruce says. "I gave him a speech and he ignored it."

"Thought as much," he said. "Got a lot of questions about that one."

"Do they..." Jason says, glancing around and dropping his voice. "Do they know you were Batman?"

"Sure," Thomas says. "Didn't see a point in hiding it. Swapped stories with a few people. I think about half of them think I'm crazy, though."

"I mean, your name..."

"Could be a coincidence," Thomas says. "And I don't have anything to prove I know you... except the few people in the room right now who are side eyeing the fact that I'm talking with you."

"Apparently we're allowed to send photo albums," Bruce says. "I was going to have Alfred put one together."

"That'd be nice," Thomas says. "Could use some books, too."

"Do you - are there any specific things you want to read?" Jason blurts.

"I haven't sat down and read a book in years," Thomas says. "Wouldn't know where to start."

"I'll pick some out for you," Jason says. "Make sure you get them."

Bruce goes to spend the money they brought in on food from the vending machine, returning with some of the cheapest, least appetizing choices Jason's ever seen. Thomas seems to love them, bigging in without an ounce of shame as Jason tells him about the trip to Santa Prisca—albeit leaving out all the really bad bits, which is almost the whole thing.

Bruce tells Thomas about Cass and how  _ that's _ going, and then the conversation seems to ebb. Bruce goes to check his watch, which isn't there, and settles for turning to look at the clock on the wall.

"Time to go," Thomas says pointedly.

"Probably," Bruce mutters to himself. "Don't like being without my phone. If anything happens..." Bruce doesn't really need to explain why he'd be paranoid not having it, and the fact is that they have no idea how long Joey's taking. For all they know, he's already out, waiting for them to get back.

"We'll come next week," Bruce adds. "We can make this a regular thing."

"Sure," Thomas says dryly. "I'll clear a spot in my busy social calendar for you."

It hurts. It probably shouldn't, but it  _ does, _ because they're the only people Thomas has. It's just him, alone, and then  _ sometimes _ they'll come and visit.

Jason can't stop himself from leaning over the table, his voice dropping.

"If you want out," he says quietly. "If you need to - to get out. Just ask, and we'll-"

"Jason," Thomas says flatly. "One, don't suggest something stupid like that in a monitored room. Two, I know you're probably feeling shitty, but this... this is my fault. I shouldn't have killed her. I don't regret what I did, but I shouldn't have done it. If things had played out even a little bit differently, it could have been  _ all _ of you behind bars. I could have screwed up everything you have right now. So I'm going to sit tight, right here where I should be, and in a few years when I get out I'll have to claim a raincheck on all the stuff we were going to do, alright?"

Great. His eyes are watering. He told himself he wouldn't cry, but he's on the verge of it anyway.

"Let's go," Bruce says, nudging his elbow. "So you can say goodbye."

He knows what Bruce means as they all stand up, and Jason steps over, wrapping his arms around Thomas's middle as he buries his face in Thomas's shoulder. He knows it's not the sort of hug he's supposed to have—those are supposed to be brief—but he doesn't really care right then.

"Sorry," Jason mumbles, and Thomas pats his back.

"He's a good kid," Thomas says over his head, and Jason has to break the hug to wipe at his eyes, letting Bruce go in for a (much shorter) hug of his own.

"I know," he hears Bruce say. "We'll visit again next week, and I'll make sure you get those photos."

Jason holds it together until they've passed through security, got their stuff, and made it outside the building. Only then does he let himself break down, wrapped in Bruce's arms and crying until he can't anymore.


	60. Chapter 60

Joey's waiting by the car when they get back, and Jason doesn't have the energy to ask him how long he's been waiting. He feels drained, and apparently it shows, because the moment Joey gets a good look at him, his face pinches with worry.

_ Are you alright?  _ He signs, Jason's earpiece left at home.

"Just... wrung out," Jason says. "It's barely lunch and I think I need a nap."

"Did things go alright with your visit?" Bruce asks as he slips into the driver's seat, letting Jason take the back seat with Joey.

Joey takes a moment to sync with the phone clipped to the car dash before he answers.

"She saw me," he says, "so there's that."

"Doesn't exactly sound positive," Jason says.

"We don't really... have a relationship or anything. She basically doesn't know me, so this visit was really just... talking. I promised her I'd write."

"We're going to send some photos to Thomas," Bruce says. "Maybe we should send her some too? And some books."

"She'd probably like that," Joey says. "Think we could slip in a photo of my Rose? I told her about her a bit, but they wouldn't let me bring my phone."

"Sure," Bruce says. "Shouldn't be too hard. I'll look into it later today."

Jason stares out the window for most of the ride home, trying not to think at all. He wants to find books, look for things Thomas might like, but he feels sapped, unable to muster up the energy to do anything.

"I got him," Joey says when they finally arrive, and it takes Jason a second to realize that Joey means  _ him. _

"I'm fine," he insists. "Just tired. I'll just... nap."

"It's not that kind of tired and you know it," Joey says. "I'm picking out a movie and we're going to watch it."

Jason doesn't get a say, but he also doesn't really  _ feel _ like protesting. It feels kind of relaxing to let Joey take charge, guiding him into the house. Joey sets him up in the living room, burying him in blankets, and then picks out a nice, inoffensive animated family movie. He grabs snacks (and the earpiece), and then slides under the blankets beside him, curling up against his side.

"Thank you," Jason mumbles, burying his face against Joey's shoulder. "This is... nice."

"You deserve some time to relax," Joey says in his ear, and Jason can't stop himself from shivering, leaning a bit more heavily against him.

He dozes through lunch—he can hear it happening but doesn't feel like getting up—but finally gets hungry after the  _ second _ movie finishes.

"Hungry," he mumbles. "Want to go raid the kitchen?"

"I can always get you something," Joey says.

"My legs are asleep," Jason points out. "I should probably get up."

"You're just trying to sneak away," Joey says, and while there's not really much  _ tone _ to his artificial voice, the look on Joey's face makes it clear he's being playful with it.

Jason carefully removes himself from the blankets before folding them all back up, setting them on the side table before heading for the kitchen. Alfred isn't there, but when he opens the fridge he finds a bowl with each of their names on it, complete with reheating instructions.

_ Handy, _ Joey signs as Jason pops them into the microwave.

"Alfred's a lifesaver," Jason admits. "Pretty sure we'd all starve without him."

_ I'll have to whip you into shape,  _ Joey signs.  _ Teach you how to cook. _

"I've been informed by Alfred that I am  _ taste challenged,"  _ Jason admits. "He tried to teach me to cook, but apparently I'll eat basically anything and think it tastes fine."

_ Something to work on later, _ Joey signs.  _ I'm no Alfred, but I can manage in the kitchen. _

"You don't have to, you know," Jason says. It just comes out—he's not  _ meaning _ to bring it up. "You've got other things to do."

_ But I'd like to, _ Joey signs.  _ I don't have anything else I need to be doing, you know. _

Jason hesitates before responding, and Joey narrows his eyes, clearly wary.

"Sorry," Jason blurts. "It's not - it isn't anything."

_ It's obviously something, _ Joey signs right back, and it's clear from his body language he's not going to just let it slip past.

"No it - it's not something  _ you _ have to worry about. It's just... it's a me thing."

_ You things are us things,  _ Joey signs, before reaching out to lightly take Jason's hand, using the earpiece to finish the sentiment. "You can talk to me, remember?"

"I mean it," Jason says. "It's just... a me thing."

Joey squeezes his hand, and Jason deflates.

"I just got used to always having you around," he admits. "I had weeks of you just always being there, and then suddenly you were going out with people and doing other things and it caught me off guard. It's not a  _ bad _ thing. It's... it's a good thing. You should have a life outside of us. It's just something I need to get over so I'm not one of those possessive assholes who won't let their partner go to the corner store without checking in every five minutes."

He feels stupid, because it's a stupid problem. For that matter, it's not even  _ really _ a problem, just him being... well, selfish? Possessive? It's a  _ him _ problem, and one he needs to bring up with Hudson.

_ If I knew it was bothering you, I'd have talked to you about it, _ Joey signs, and Jason shakes his head.

"That's the point," he says. "You shouldn't have to talk to me about it at all. I shouldn't need that kind of... constant reassurance."

He looks away without meaning too, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He shouldn't, but he sort of  _ does. _ He wishes he didn't. He wishes he didn't need it at all.

"I just don't want to screw this up," Jason says quietly.

"I get it," Joey says through the earpiece, stepping into Jason's line of sight. "But you can still ask. I knew going into this that there would be some rough patches we'd have to work out, and I worry that you're swinging too hard the other way. If you ask, it's no big deal. The big deal is if you  _ make _ it a big deal."

Kind of like he is right then, and Jason winces.

"Then what - where did you go?"

As much as Joey said it was alright to ask, he does  _ not _ look enthusiastic about actually sharing that information.

"You don't have to-"

_ I do, _ he signs.  _ I can't press you on the importance of communication and then refuse to say. That's a you thing, and this is a me thing. _

He pauses, takes a deep breath, and then answers.

_ I was trying to find a church. _

Jason waits—he's definitely expecting more—but that's all there is.

"A church?"

_ For services. _

Jason stares for a moment before he finally realizes.

"Oh!" He says, face going pink. "Oh - I didn't - I wasn't thinking about that." To say the least, he's been caught absolutely off guard. He didn't realize that Joey was religious at  _ all. _

_ Ma was culturally Christian, if you know what that means. Got married in a church, probably went to service for Easter and Christmas, got me baptized... didn't really do anything other than that. Didn't believe, for sure. I don't think many people do when you have literal gods walking around. _

Jason gets that. Or maybe he doesn't. He can imagine why it would be hard to follow any sort of major religion that says  _ there are no gods but me _ and then have to deal with the fact that Themyscira is a real place and magic really exists.

But at the same time, he has no experience with it. He's pretty sure he doesn't even count as culturally Christian.

"I wasn't baptized," he admits, abruptly second guessing a whole hell of a lot. Is it going to be an issue? Is it something he should have asked about? "I'm not sure any of us were."

_ Tim probably was, _ Joey signs.  _ This is one of the reasons I wasn't going to bring it up, because you have that look on your face that says you're worrying about this. _

"Is this - is it an issue?" Jason asks, feeling anxious at the idea. What if Joey - but no, that doesn't make any sense. If Joey was only going to date someone who had the same beliefs as him, he'd have  _ started _ with that.

_ It isn't, _ Joey signs.  _ Unless it's an issue for you. _

"It isn't," Jason blurts. It doesn't change anything about Joey, and he's just relieved that it isn't some kind of mistake he made by not already having asked. "How did - I mean, if your parents...?"

_ My ex, _ Joey signs.  _ He was Catholic, but I didn't really agree with a lot of their stances, so I went Episcopalan. _

Jason has absolutely no idea what the difference is, but he nods along as if he does.

_ I checked a few churches nearby, _ he signs.  _ Obviously Sunday mornings are out, but I found one that does Sundays at noon, after therapy. I spoke with the priest and he said the diocese was actually looking for an ASL interpreter. _

"As a job?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow.

_ As a potential job, _ Joey signs.  _ Only part time work, just a few times a month. I told him I wanted to get a better feel for the community first. _

Jason reminds himself of what he said not too long ago. That it would be  _ good _ if Joey had more people he knew. That it'd be better if he had a social circle outside of just him and his friends.

"That's good," he said. "Hopefully if... hopefully that works out."

Joey leans over, giving him a peck on the cheek, and Jason flushes again.

"Sorry for being difficult," he mumbles.

_ You weren't being difficult, _ Joey says.  _ You did just fine, alright? Just have some confidence in yourself. If I didn't want to be with you, I wouldn't. _

Yep, he's definitely blushing again.

"Thanks," he says quietly. "You - just thanks."

Joey leans in, giving him another little peck, and Jason turns his head, shifting it into a kiss on the lips.

He feels a lot better than he did.


	61. Chapter 61

Bruce snags him just before the interview airs, his expression one that Jason has come to read as  _ apologetic. _

"What?" Jason says automatically, wary of what he's about to hear.

"Thanks," Bruce says, and apparently Jason's eyebrows going up in confusion is enough to prompt Bruce to clarify. "For not mentioning the stuff with Dax to Thomas."

"Oh!" Jason says, shaking his head. "Why would I ever mention that? Nothing good could possibly come of him finding out. It's... it's a done thing. Chill's gone, the case is cold, and it's just..."

"Better forgotten," Bruce says with a nod. "I agree."

Jason knows  _ Bruce _ isn't going to forget, but in the eyes of everyone else? It's better left buried. He knows his father well enough to know that it's going to weigh on him whether he shows it or not.

"Have you thought about telling them?" Jason says, raising an eyebrow, and Bruce meets his look with a look of pure confusion.

"Telling them...?"

"Your parents. Going down and... telling them what you know."

He knows Bruce talks to the graves sometimes. That he, as dramatic as he is, swears oaths by them and all that. Most of the time they pretend like they don't notice when he visits, but at this point, Jason things it's worth a shot.

"You don't think that would be... weird?" Bruce says, obviously picking his words carefully.

"Bruce," Jason says flatly. "You spent more than a decade running around dressed as a bat. One of your best friends is an alien. We have absolutely no metric for  _ weird, _ and none of us are going to think it's weird if you want to go talk to your parents."

He pauses, shifting his weight awkwardly, and then fesses up.

"I talked to Joey before. Not... this Joey, but Joseph. Slade's son. Back when we first started really talking, I apologized because I felt like I was stealing his dad, and told him he was doing a pretty good job. I felt kind of stupid doing it, but I felt like I was... hedging my bets, I guess? Better to say it and make sure things are clear then to find out ghosts actually do exist."

Five years ago, saying that out loud would make you sound crazy. But between gods, aliens, and alternate dimensions? Jason's not ruling them out.

"I'll... do that," Bruce finally says. "Maybe tonight, after we've watched the interview."

To Jason's annoyance,  _ the interview _ turns out to be a whole  _ thing. _ Everyone gathers in the living room to watch, with Slade planting Jason right in the middle of the couch 'just in case'. When Jason asks what  _ just in case _ is supposed to mean, Slade gives him a pointed look and Jason lets out a sigh.

The intro is flashy and largely unnecessary, explaining a bunch of things that literally  _ anyone _ in Gotham should already know. Yes, he's the Batman. Yes, he's the son of Bruce Wayne. He's wary of how things are going to be edited, but when it actually gets into it, he finds the editing to be fairly minimal. It hops back and forth to show whoever's talking, but they've cut very little out. He's happy the family's attention is on the screen, outside of a few offhand comments.

"They did reach out," Bruce mutters when the Gotham Knights are mentioned. "But we've already got a box."

"We do?" Jason asks, squinting at Bruce. "And you didn't tell me? Michael's a fan."

"Just get him to ask," Bruce says, before Damian shushes them.

"She paused here," Jason mentions during a cut. "Checked in on me to make sure I was doing alright." It's completely gone, edited out as if it never happened, and he wants to make sure the family knows she wasn't just pushing onward.

But he doesn't bring up the  _ is Damian Bruce's biological son _ question. He gets why she asked it and what she was leading too, and almost the entire segment discussing Dick and Tim has been cut as well.

"We actually send them Christmas gifts," Bruce mutters under his breath when Jason's rescuers get mentioned. "Anonymously. I guess they won't have to be anonymous this year."

"Do I want to know what you've been sending them?" Slade asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Probably not," Bruce says as Damian shushes them  _ again. _

They leave in a cut down version of his awkward pause when she asks her question.  _ The _ big question. The moment he says the words  _ I was kidnapped, _ Slade and Bruce both simultaneously attempt to put their arms around each other, bumping into each other in the process and being forced into a quick shuffle so they can  _ both _ finish the gesture, trapping Jason between them.

The room is dead silent as the story gets told. They all know the truth, but there's something different in knowing that Jason's telling it to the public. Even for Jason it feels different, and he goes stiff as he listens to himself talk about it.

"Well played," Damian mutters when the story about the  _ Arkham Knight _ gets explained.

Jason lets out a sigh of relief when the interview finishes. It feels weird to be tense considering he knew exactly how it was going to play out, but that doesn't change his reaction, and he's happy it's over.

"You did well," Slade says. "Good improvisation on the story. You sold it well."

"Excellent acting," Alfred says with a smile. "I was halfway convinced myself."

Jason's phone beeps, and he attempts to extricate himself from his parent's grip to grab it when it beeps  _ again. _

"Oh no," Jason says. "How many people were watching that?"

_ Probably the whole of Gotham, _ Joey signs.

"You're aiming too low," Wintergreen says. "I wouldn't be surprised if half the country will have seen it by the morning. You might be  _ Gotham's _ first family of vigilantism, but the whole country is fascinated."

Cass says nothing from her spot near the door. Jason's surprised she was willing to watch at all, but she  _ did _ join them, watching the whole thing without a word.

Jason's phone beeps again and he winces. Slade takes pity, reaching over to grab it off the dock, handing it over. There's already six messages, and Jason doesn't even get to reply to one before there's a different kind of beep: someone's breached the security perimeter on foot.

"Great," Slade says, standing up. "Who is-"

There's a knock at the door, and they exchange glances.

"...Barry," Jason says, heading for the door. They know a bunch of people who are that fast, but only one travels by foot. He isn't surprised when he opens the door to find his friend, although he is surprised that he looks so tired.

Barry throws his arms around Jason's shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

"Hi Jay!" He says. "Sorry about the short notice, I texted you, but you didn't respond, so I thought I'd just run over-"

"You ran over? From  _ Central City?" _

"Well, yeah," Barry says. "Took me a bit to get here, but I wanted to make sure you were fine."

Jason groans.

"I'm fine, and it literally just finished," Jason points out. "I hadn't even gotten a chance to  _ check _ my texts."

Barry looks embarrassed, and Jason lets out a sigh.

"Barry!" Slade calls. "Dropping by to check in?"

"Can't stay long," he says. "We were watching it over dinner. I told everyone I'd be back before they could even miss me."

"You ran all the way up here, and you're going to run all the way back... and you aren't even staying five minutes?" Bruce asks, joining them at the back door.

"Well..." Barry says.

"What if I tell you that Alfred is making pies?" Damian asks, popping out from between Bruce and Slade.

"Weeeeeeeeeell..."

Despite Barry's promises to be back soon, he does end up staying for dinner, making excuses about needing the calories before being convinced by Alfred to take a pie home with him. Jason waits until he's gone and then checks his texts, firing off a round of 'yes I am fine' to the dozen people who've texted him before going back around for more detailed responses.

He's got texts from the Kents (asking if they should drop by), as well as ones from Amina, the Rows, Roy, Michael, and a whole bunch of other people. A few numbers are actually unfamiliar to him, leaving him distinctly unclear as to who he's even talking to. One turns out to be the mayor (Bruce says he's pretty sure he gave Andrew Jason's number as an emergency contact), and another turns out to be Steve, checking in on behalf of the League.

"Plenty of people checking in," Jason says with a sigh, sprawling out on the couch and texting people as he goes. "Too many, honestly."

_ Adeline saw it too,  _ Joey signs.  _ She wanted me to send her best. _

"Tell her I say hi," Jason says. As much as he's never really heard anything  _ good _ about Adeline (and didn't exactly have the best experiences with her personally), he's still sort of weirdly happy to hear she's talking with Joey. It's good. It's... a connection.

"Do we have anything tomorrow?" Jason asks, craning his neck up to look around.

"Plans, you mean?" Bruce asks. "No. No plans."

A lazy Saturday sounds just like what Jason needs.


	62. Chapter 62

Jason wakes late the following morning tangled up in his bedsheets, and it takes him a few sleepy moments to manage to crawl his way out and make it to the shower.

It's a free day, barring some sort of disaster, and Jason intends to capitalize on it by doing very little. He digs out an oversized T-shirt with the Nightwing logo on it to pull on and a baggy pair of pants, and then heads out into the house to get food.

He catches Cassandra, Alfred, and Wintergreen in the kitchen, and  _ catches _ is probably the best possible term. The moment he turns the corner she sits straight upright, head spinning around to stare at him.

"Just me," Jason says with a yawn. "Coffee?"

Alfred gives him tea instead because he's a monster, and Cassandra stays put.

"What were we talking about?" Jason asks as he drinks, and the conversation almost immediately slides back into what he was sure was being discussed beforehand.

"Wintergreen found a language course that runs through the basics of ASL in video form," Alfred says. "Miss Cassandra seemed open to the concept, so we were just discussing how to set things up."

"Why not set her up in the library?" Jason asks. "I was thinking of just... spending the day in the library."

He can't help but notice that Alfred calls her  _ Miss Cassandra _ rather than  _ Miss Cain, _ and decides he'll do the same. Better to avoid mentioning her father at all, because there's no way of knowing how she feels about him.

Even worse: It's not like he can  _ ask, _ either.

"I think that sounds like a good idea," Wintergreen says. "We can get her set up in the library for most of today. Maybe after breakfast."

Other people start filtering in, and it's clear that they weren't exaggerating: Cassandra clears out not long after Bruce arrives, seemingly heading for her windowsill.

Alfred makes sure she gets breakfast, even if she doesn't join them all, and everyone swaps plans for the day. Damian's recruited Ren, Blue, and Ore to help with the path, while Bruce is going to try and get some work done. Slade mentions something about  _ League Business _ which probably means a lot of phone calls, and Alfred talks a bit about taking a trip into town to restock the pantry.

"We've been running low after the visit from the Kents," he admits. "Those boys will eat us out of house and home if we aren't careful."

"What about you, Wintergreen?" Jason asks between bites, vaguely surprised that he's not going with Alfred.

"I have some calls to make about the house," he says. "Once that's done, I should probably get a start on packing so that I'm ready to go once it's done."

"You're certainly welcome to come back any time," Bruce says. "It's been good having you."

Bruce isn't alone in the sentiment. There's a chorus of agreement from around the table, and it's fairly clear that Wintergreen is well liked by absolutely everyone.

"I'd expect no less," Wintergreen says. "What better bonding experience then helping blow up the manor?"

There's a round of laughter at that, and then Slade turns his attention to Joey.

"Any plans?"

_ I was going to talk to Jason about that, actually,  _ he signs, and Jason realizes he's as  _ in the dark _ about the whole thing as everyone else.

He doesn't find out what Joey wants until after breakfast as Wintergreen sets up the videos in the library for Cassandra.

_ I was actually going to ask if I could paint you while you read, _ Joey signs, and Jason feels _ completely _ caught off guard.

"Paint me?" He asks. "Like... artistically?" He realizes after he says it how stupid it sounds, but the idea of someone drawing him... even if he knows Joey already  _ was _ drawing him, those were quick sketches. This feels like... something else.

_ I've been getting out of practice, _ Joey signs.  _ And I'm not quite willing to commit to finding regular models. I thought if you weren't going to be moving around much anyway, you might be willing to oblige. _

"I... sure," Jason says. "I don't really know... how to do it or anything, but..."

Joey, however, does. He's clearly painted people plenty of times, because he knows just what he wants to do and just how he wants to do it. He grabs some supplies from his room, borrows some from Damian, and then grabs a big plastic drop cloth from the cave to lay out in part of the library and minimize the risk of paint getting anywhere. Jason grabs the library's chaise lounge chair, stacking two or three books to the side just in case he needs to be there too long.

_ Can I arrange you? _ Joey asks once Cassandra's all set up and ready to go, and Jason's face goes red. That is... a question.

"This isn't... nude modelling, right?"

Maybe he should have worn something nicer.

_ It's not, _ Joey says with a grin.  _ Although I'm never going to turn that down with you. _

"No," Jason blurts. "Definitely not... that." The idea makes him feel ill, and he sprawls out on the couch. "Do your worst."

It probably shouldn't be that bad. Joey touches him only lightly, mostly nudging to get Jason to sit the right way. The pose doesn't seem to be anything special, but apparently it fits Joey's requirements, because he pulls away, looks Jason over, and then heads back to the easel he's set up. Jason grabs a book, being careful not to move, and starts to read.

It's remarkably easy to zone out. He's used to ignoring how his body feels, and the book is good enough to hold his attention. For a while, he even forgets what's happening, lulled mentally out of focus by the soft sounds of Cassandra's video at the far side of the library.

He's brought out of it what must be hours later by the rapid tapping of the handle of Joey's paintbrush against the wood of the easel, and he lifts himself slightly, confused.

"Huh?"

_ Food?  _ Joey signs.  _ Alfred asked if we wanted any. _

Jason wonders how he managed to miss Alfred stopping by, but shakes his head.

"I'm fine," he says. "Not really hungry. You can...?"

_ I'm fine with finishing here, _ Joey signs.  _ Cassandra already left. _

When he looks, the video's already paused, and Jason lets out a sigh.

"I'm out of position, aren't I?"

Joey steps around the easel, approaching him and shifting his position again. It feels... nice, he guesses, having Joey touch him like that, even though it probably  _ shouldn't. _ It's a perfectly normal thing, and he tries not to bury his face in the book as Joey returns to his seat.

He spends most of the early afternoon there. He finishes up the first book and moves onto the second, and it's only when the light starts to go that Joey taps the easel again to draw his attention.

_ Light's changed too much, _ Joey signs.  _ It's as good as it's going to get. _

Jason twists around to find Cassandra is back in her spot, and then turns back to Joey.

"I can get up?"

_ It's as done as it's going to be, so you might as well, _ Joey signs. He doesn't look particularly happy, even as Jason picks himself up. He wobbles a bit when he straightens up, all the blood rushing away from his head, but he's fine after a moment, stretching out with a yawn.

"Okay," he says.  _ "Now _ I'm hungry."

But he's also curious, unsure of what the standard policies are. Is he allowed to ask? Should he just try and sneak a peak? Apparently he's a bit too obvious with his sneaking, because Joey raises an eyebrow, gesturing for him to come over.

_ I wanted something more basic, _ he signs.  _ As you were, rather than as you could be. I'm not entirely happy with it, but I suppose it'll do. I need to get better supplies, these brushes Damian's been using are awful. _

Jason's first impression of the painting is that Joey is  _ absolutely fucking crazy. _ The painting is less like a painting and more like a photograph. It's him, sprawled out reading a book, and if not for a few details—the book's been swapped out with a plain cover rather than the sci fi paperback he was actually reading for most of the day—he could have believed it was done entirely from a single photo, rather than him constantly moving around.

"It's - wow," Jason says. "That's amazing."

He'd thought Joey's sketches were good, but they have  _ nothing _ on his paintings.

_ I'm out of practice, _ Joey signs, still looking unhappy.

"No," Jason says, "I mean it. It's... wow."

It feels weird looking at himself, but there's no denying the skill of the painting. Or at least he  _ thinks _ there's no denying it, because Joey goes right on to do just that, pointing out a number of minor flaws.

_ Your wrist's at the wrong angle, _ he signs.  _ I made a mistake when I adjusted the size of the book, and by the time I noticed it was too late to go back. The fabric doesn't fold correctly here, either. _

Jason can  _ mostly _ see the mistakes when Joey points them out, but he doesn't think that changes much.

"I still think it's amazing," Jason says, and is amused to see Joey's ears go pink, clearly flustered.

_ I can do better, _ Joey signs.  _ If you'll let me have a next time. _

"I had... I don't know if fun is the right word, but it was nice. A relaxing day. Not sure how often we'll get so many uninterrupted hours, but..."

_ We'll find time, _ Joey signs.  _ I'm going to go set this up in the cave to dry. Can you grab Cassandra for dinner...? _

They haven't been called as far as he's aware, but he figures the worst that can happen is they'll help Alfred set up.

"Cassandra?" He calls, and her head turns, the video still playing. "We're going to call it a day and grab dinner. Did you want to join us?"

She pauses for a moment, and then nods, so Jason pauses the video, making note of how far she got before tidying up. He still needs to pick out books for Thomas, and makes a note to himself to come back and do that after dinner.

Dinner feels normal. Slow. Nothing to write home about, which comes as a relief after so much in so little time. Cassandra joins them, and everyone chats about their day. Damian declares the path complete. Bruce talks about a contract Wayne Enterprises just wrapped. Joey doesn't bring up the painting, so Jason talks a bit about the book instead.

"I think I'm going to pick out some books for Thomas," Jason says. "Take some guesses at what he might like."

"You can pick them out from the library," Slade points out, "but just tell us the titles. It's easier if they're sent directly, rather than having to be taken apart to be searched for contraband."

"Pain in the ass," Jason mutters, and Slade snorts.

"You'll get used to it. Just give me a list of titles and I'll put it together."

"I'll work on the photo album," Bruce says. "Alfred, maybe you could...?"

"Of course," Alfred says. "I have some in mind already. Perhaps you'd be interested in putting some together for Mrs. Worth, Mr. Wilson?" He turns to Joey, who enthusiastically signs his confirmation.

The problem with choosing books is that he has no idea what Thomas does or doesn't like. He picks out a mix of fiction and non, carefully avoiding true crime or anything that Blackgate's staff might find objectionable. He decides to go with the novel he finished earlier that day, mix in some classics, and then adds some other books that might spark his interest. He knows Thomas was once a surgeon, and picks out a few interesting books relating to  _ weird medical cases _ to add to the pile.

He doesn't even notice Cassandra's in the room with him until she raps her fingers against one of the wood bookshelves, miming the same gesture Joey used earlier to get his attention.

"Oh," Jason says, shoving the book he was looking at back in its place as he straightens up. "Did you need something?"

He's not sure why anyone would send Cass to get him, but he supposes her lack of communication doesn't really hinder it. All she has to do is wave just the right way and he'll go along without complaint.

She stares at him with an intensity that he's come to expect from her, and then reaches her hands out, gesturing.

_ Leave, _ she signs. A single thing with no further context.

"Leave?" Jason says, trying to make sure he's even understanding correctly.

She repeats the sign, and then gestures to herself.

Okay. It's not really a  _ sentence, _ but it's more communication than he's  _ ever _ gotten from her, and he's willing to take it.

Not that he really understands.

"Leave- you leave-" Ah.  _ Ah. _ Then he gets it. Wintergreen's been talking about going home. He reaches out, trying to take her hand, but she pulls it back before he can. So much for the physical side of comfort.

"You don't have to leave," he says. "You were brought here so that you could live here for good. You don't have to leave, and you don't have to go back with your father. You're safe, and-"

Cassandra makes a  _ noise _ that he can only register as frustration, and then turns away, leaving him behind.

Jason stares after her, blinking in confusion. He's sure he just made a mistake, but the problem is that he has no idea  _ what _ the mistake was, and the more he thinks, the less he understands. He's not sure if he misunderstood her question, or answered wrong, or  _ what, _ and in the end all he can do is give up entirely, sighing as he leaves the library to go find Bruce.

He'll just have to figure it out on his own.


	63. Chapter 63

He gives Bruce the list of books he made, and then leans against Bruce's desk and broods until Bruce gets the hint.

"You could just say it," Bruce says, "rather than making me ask."

"Wanted to see if you would ask," he says. "Cassandra said something to me, but I don't know what she meant."

Bruce's head snaps up.

"She spoke?"

"Signed," Jason says, miming the sign. "Leave. Then she pointed at herself."

"...And?" Bruce says. He sounds almost wary, and Jason wonders if Bruce is as confused as he is.

"I figured it was connected to the fact that Wintergreen's leaving. So I told her that she didn't have to leave, we weren't going to kick her out, etcetera, etcetera."

"And?" Bruce asks. Jason definitely has his attention.

"She got... annoyed? Frustrated? And left."

Bruce pauses and then leans back in his chair, his expression one of intense concentration. Jason waits with bated breath, hoping for some kind of insight.

"Nope," Bruce says. "No idea. That's what I'd have said too."

Jason groans.

"Useless," he mutters. "I should have asked Slade."

"No, you should have asked  _ Alfred.  _ He's the one who seems to have her figured out." He catches Jason glancing towards the door and waves him off. "We already finished with the album, so I think he was doing meal prep for the next week."

Jason finds Alfred right where Bruce said he'd be, preparing bits and pieces of the next week's meals in the kitchen. It's an undeniable fact that Alfred's slowed down, struggling with the workload of maintaining such a large household, but it's also an undeniable fact that none of them are willing to bring it up. Instead they just... help. Help as much as they can so there's less for him to do.

"Want me to handle something?" Jason asks. "Wanted to pick your brain about Cassandra."

"I'm always open for help," Alfred says. "There are some bags of peppers that need to be cored and seeded in the fridge, if you'd be so kind."

Jason grabs the bags and a cutting board, getting everything ready before he grabs the knife and gets to work.

"Small strips, or as whole as possible?"

"Half and half would be ideal," Alfred says, focused on his own work. "You had something to ask about Miss Cassandra?"

"She signed at me," Jason says. "Leave, and then she gestured at herself. I think she was asking if she had to leave."

"And what did you say?" Alfred asks, giving no indication of anything at all.

"I told her she didn't have to leave, and that she could stay here. That we weren't going to kick her out or anything like that. But then she basically... got frustrated and left, I think. It was mostly just her making a noise and leaving."

"Hmmm," Alfred says quietly, and Jason looks up from his work.

"Any ideas?"

"My current idea is that you should keep your eyes on your knife," Alfred says. "Batman losing a finger to bell peppers would be quite embarrassing."

Jason grunts and puts his focus back on his work.

"So," he says without looking up, "any ideas?"

"I have some," Alfred says, "but many of them will be unpleasant for you, and I am unsure if you actually wish to hear them, or would prefer to wait."

The way Alfred says it is stiff and overly formal, and catches him off guard in a very bad way.

"Unpleasant? Like.. what?"

Alfred lets out a little sigh, and Jason stops cutting. He can't focus on the peppers. Maybe when it's done. Instead, he sets down the knife, turning towards Alfred.

"You might as well tell me," he adds. "You know how I get."

He doesn't need to explain his stubbornness to Alfred. It's practically a family trait, and he's dealt with it before.

"I discussed this matter with Wintergreen just yesterday," he says, "but did not expect it to become relevant so soon. To put simply: has it occured to you that Miss Cassandra might not wish to be here at all?"

The idea catches Jason  _ so _ off guard that he's happy he put the knife down. If he'd been cutting when that bomb was dropped on him, he's pretty sure he'd have stabbed himself by accident.

"What?!" He blurts. "How can - why? We're offering her a family."

"Miss Cassandra has never known a family," Alfred says. "She has only ever known her father. From what we've been told, her father had little interest in raising her as anything other than a weapon. She has only ever been a mercenary. Has only ever trained. The idea of sitting at home living a normal life is perhaps more alien to her than anything else could possibly be."

None of it is new information, but presented like that... Jason hesitates, unsure of what to say, and Alfred keeps talking.

"I don't think she hates you or anyone else here," Alfred says, "but I do think her very existence is sharply at odds with our life here. She is struggling to adjust, much in the same way that Thomas Wayne did, and I am... worried that attempting to force the matter might have disastrous consequences."

Jason swallows down the lump in his throat, leaning back against the counter. Adjusting. She's trying to adjust.

"We can just - maybe if we just go slower?" It sounds plausible in his head, but the moment he says it, he sees the flaws.

"We are a household of six," Alfred says. "We frequently host the Kents, members of the League, and other friends and family. Almost every person here has some sort of active social life, with obligations and expectations placed upon them from a variety of sources. In an ideal situation, we would be able to put all that aside and spend time at home, helping Miss Cassandra adjust, but we have not been able to. It simply isn't possible."

It's hard not to see the truth of it. They've have people visiting constantly, and when Alfred sets it out for him, it's clear enough what the pattern is. It's not any one person being there or not being there: it's the  _ number _ of people.

"She's overwhelmed," Jason says quietly. "She mostly... if there's too many people, or strangers, she hides. She's... afraid."

"I'm not sure I would go so far as to say she's afraid," Alfred says. "But yes, seeing so many people puts her off. She is struggling to adjust."

Alfred pauses his work, turning to face Jason properly. His face looks somber, as if the answer is already clear to him.

"I imagine that, knowing all this, you can figure out what she was trying to say, and why she reacted the way she did?"

"She was frustrated I didn't get it," Jason says. "She... she wanted to go with him."

"Yes," Alfred says. "Or at least I imagine that's the truth. She's quite fond of both myself  _ and _ Billy, but only one of us will soon be returning to a life of relative peace and isolation, and she reached out to someone she trusted in order to try and convey that. She struggles with... making herself understood, and this no doubt frustrates her."

He wants to be happy that she trusts him enough to reach out, but it's hard. It feels like a failure, like they've screwed up. His distress must have shown on his face, because Alfred steps forward, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him in for a hug.

"Please don't blame yourself," Alfred says. "You have done so well with her. But not every situation plays out perfectly. What she needs is not necessarily what we have to offer."

Jason hugs him back, letting out a sigh before finally straightening up.

"...Who's telling who?"

"Before telling anyone, I would recommend you speak to Miss Cassandra herself. Better to confirm our understanding then to act on a mistaken assumption. As I said, this is only my own interpretation."

"I can't remember the last time your interpretation was wrong," Jason points out.

"I have been, on occasion, known to be incorrect," Alfred says with a smile. "Only rarely, though."

"I'll talk to her," he says. "After I'm finished with food prep."

"Perhaps you could instead collect Master Damian," Alfred suggests. "He promised to assist in peeling potatoes last week and has yet to follow through. Now would be as good a time as any."

Jason does just that, finding Damian in his room before sending him off to help Alfred. Finding Cassandra proves more difficult, however. She isn't in the windowsill or her room, and Jason's forced to resort to checking the cameras until he finds her sitting in the library, staring out the window.

He makes a point of calming himself down before he enters. He wants to be composed. Together. Not at all like the mess he feels like. Even with Alfred's reassurance, he still feels like it's a mistake, like they screwed up and now have to fix the problem they created.

"Cass?" He calls when he steps into the library, and she turns her head to look at him. She's sitting in the chair, but her legs are pulled up to her chest, ready to move as needed.

"Sorry about not getting it earlier. At the time I just... didn't understand, I guess." He feels like he's screwing it up already, and having Cassandra staring at him with her intense laser focus is  _ not _ comforting. It's, if he's being honest, kind of unnerving.

"Sooo..." He continues. "I talked with Alfred. He helped me... figure out what you meant, probably. Is it not that you're worried about being kicked out, but instead that..." He actually has to pause, giving his brain a moment to breathe before he continues. "But instead that you want to go with Wintergreen when he leaves?"

She stares at him, not responding at all for several moments, and then nods.

Oh. Well. That's that, isn't it?

"You... I just want to make sure you understand. He's retired. You won't be going back to being a mercenary or an assassin or anything. It would just be the two of you living in his house, and... I guess we'd probably visit sometimes, or you'd visit us. He'd want you to keep doing the things you've been doing, with the sign language and the lessons and all that. You get all that, and you still want to go?"

Rookie mistake: he shouldn't have combined the two questions into one, but it's too late to go back.

It doesn't matter anyway, because she nods again.

Jason deflates like the air's been knocked out of him.

"I'll talk to Bruce," he says. "I don't - I mean, it should be possible, but it might not be easy. I'll get Alfred to talk to Wintergreen, see what he says." He hasn't asked Wintergreen or spoken to him about it at all, but deep down Jason  _ knows _ what his answer will be. He's already protective of her. Now that he's looking, he sees in Wintergreen what he sees in Slade: that same instinctive drive to protect someone who thinks they don't need protecting.

"Thanks," he adds. "For... for talking about it with me."

He leaves her in the library and goes to find his father, even if he already knows what the answer is going to be.


	64. Chapter 64

It goes more or less the way he expects. Bruce is at first caught off guard, then acts almost defensive. It takes a bit for Jason to talk him through it, and then he does what Bruce always does when confronted with something that feels like failure: he sulks.

Jason's learned not to engage Bruce when he does it, leaving him to his own devices (or more likely Slades), and instead goes to check in with Alfred. Alfred's in the midst of a conversation with Wintergreen, but Jason's surprised to find Joey there, joining in on the conversation.

"What'd I miss?" He asks, and Alfred gestures for him to come over.

"I explained the situation to Wintergreen," Alfred says. "He's open to the idea of taking Cassandra with him."

_ "Open to the idea,"  _ Wintergreen says with a snort. "You make it sound so formal."

_ It's a matter of if it's even possible, _ Joey signs.  _ Part of the reason she could stay here is because we could be trusted to handle her. They might not be willing to make the same allowances for Wintergreen. _

Joey's right. The situation is  _ unusual _ to say the least, and it's not as easy as just handing her over and calling it a day.

"I'm sure that your father can speak to the appropriate people," Alfred says. "But yes. It isn't something to be rushed into. While her situation is unusual, Miss Cassandra is still a child, and I as far as I am aware you have no true child care experience. I imagine that would be considered a mark against you."

"I would consider handling Slade for all those years to be  _ child care experience,"  _ Wintergreen says with a laugh. "But otherwise, you're correct."

_ My Wintergreen treated Rose like his daughter, _ Joey signs.  _ So you can certainly do it. _

"Somehow I don't think they'll accept  _ my alternate universe self was a great dad!" _ Jason says with a sigh.

_ Who knows?  _ Joey signs.  _ The whole situation is weird. They're talking with an amazon, who knows what they'll take as a character witness? _

It's clear that there's only so much they can do that night. There's a lot to be  _ done, _ but they're all things that need to get done during daylight hours.

"I think it's time for bed," Alfred points out. "You have your standing appointment tomorrow morning, after all."

Ah, crap.

"Right," Jason says, scratching at the back of his head. "Time for bed I guess."

He tries not to let things weigh on him as he lies in bed that night, mentally composing different ways he could bring it up to Hudson. He knows it's going to be a  _ big _ portion of his next therapy session, but he's wary of doing too much. What else does he need to cover, exactly?

He falls asleep thinking about it, and wakes with the distinct sense that he's forgotten something.

He grabs breakfast on the way out the door, and waits until he's in the car before he double checks with Joey. Joey's brought an extra bag which  _ almost _ gives him his answer, but he'd rather know for sure.

"Were you going to... uh, go to church after this?" Joey reaches down, rolling up his sleeve to show the ikon suit underneath, and then nods.

"Alright," Jason says. "We'll go as normal, and then you can... fly over and fly home? That's the plan?"

_ That's the plan, _ Joey signs.  _ I brought a change of clothes in my bag. _

"How many people do you think fly into service...?" Jason says with a grin, and Joey's shoulders shake with silent laughter.

_ I think the priest would kick me out if I descended from the sky with my arms outstretched. I'll be subtle about it,  _ he signs, and Jason double checks he has his own stuff before he starts the car.

Things are  _ significantly _ less awkward with Lonnie the second time around. It's not quite back to normal, but it's at least an  _ approximation _ of back to normal. He mentions having seen the interview, but doesn't really comment on it, and Jason isn't waiting for long before Hudson pops the door of his office open and waves him in.

"So," Hudson says before he's even sat down. "I saw the interview."

He's wearing his reading glasses, which gives him a distinctly  _ grandfatherly _ feel as he looks at Jason over the tops of them.

"Just to be clear," Hudson adds. "Much of that was bullshit, right?"

He's always liked that about Hudson: he's always a straight shooter.

"Yeah," Jason admits. "We had to come up with something to explain how Slade knew me if he wasn't Deathstroke."

"Well, it was convincing," Hudson says. "Convincing enough that I second guessed if I'd misunderstood something along the way."

"I know you're probably worried about that stuff, but that basically went fine," Jason says. "A little bit flustered, but nothing bad."

"Which means you have something more pressing you want to talk about."

Oh boy, does he.

"To go over things really, really quickly, Bruce finally got closure on who killed his parents, so he was a bit overwhelmed with that, and I've been supportive there. I went to prison—and fucking hated it—to visit Thomas. He's doing well and we're going to try and make it a weekly thing to visit him. I'm going to write him letters, Rose letters, and... I don't know, Bane? I don't know if that would be weird."

"Your life is weird," Hudson points out flatly. "If you were going to care about whether or not someone would think it's weird, you should have thought about that years ago."

Jason grins at that despite himself, sagging back into his seat.

"Things are going well with Joey... he painted me yesterday and that was... an experience. He's a great artist, even if he undersells himself. But the big thing I wanted to talk about was actually Cassandra."

"Cassandra Cain," Hudson says. "The... assassin girl?"

"That's her," Jason says. "She came to live with us on Monday. Her dad's going to be in jail for basically the rest of her life, and she doesn't have any other family. They thought we'd be a good fit because... well, we already rehabilitated  _ one _ former child assassin, so we took her in."

Hudson grunts, and Jason pauses.

"...You don't think it's a good idea."

"I have some concerns," Hudson says. "But continue."

"She's... not mute like Joey, but she doesn't really talk either. She's... communication avoidant, maybe? I don't know if it's a matter of she  _ can't _ communicate, or if she just doesn't  _ want _ to communicate, but she basically hasn't spoken a word the whole time she's been with us."

Hudson nods along, and Jason feels a flutter of concern. It's like Hudson already knows things went wrong, and it's making him second guess everything about the situation.

"We wanted her to... join the family, I guess. Settle in. But she had a lot of trouble with it. We had people over, and she'd always run away, and..."

The more he talks, the more obvious it gets, and Jason slowly sags into his chair, his explanation tapering off.

"Solved it on your own, didn't you?" Hudson says, watching Jason deflate.

He has. Or maybe not  _ solved _ it, because it isn't something that can be  _ solved, _ but he at least understands it. Spelling it all out for Hudson, it feels increasingly obvious to him that the issue isn't a failing, just an incompatibility. Having to adjust to life in the manor. The risk of becoming a public figure. Having so many strangers intruding on her life.

No wonder she focused on Wintergreen. Of all of them, he's perhaps the most  _ normal. _

"Yeah," Jason says, half to himself. "I was feeling like it was a mistake I made. Like we'd screwed up. But it's kind of... not like that, I guess."

"Not every situation has to have someone who's in the wrong," Hudson says. "I would say that in most situations, either both parties are at fault or neither is."

"I still feel like we could have done better," Jason says. "Like... we could have found a way."

"You didn't actually get that far," Hudson points out. "You never explained what happened."

Jason huffs and goes back to his explanation. He feels less biased explaining things the second time around, and by the time he gets to the end, Hudson looks satisfied.

"You handled it well," Hudson says. "It was an unpleasant situation, but you reflected, considered it from the perspective of someone else, and came away better for it. It seems like Cassandra trusts you, and most importantly, you're putting her well being ahead of your own ego."

Which is good. He's heard that lecture before: about  _ wants _ and  _ needs, _ and about his tendency to poorly balance his own compared to others. This isn't that. Cassandra is young and in clear need of help, and it feels satisfying to hear that he's learned from his mistakes.

"With that resolved," Hudson says, "did you get around to your homework?"

Oh.

Jason's sure he must go paler, and the distress must show on his face, because Hudson's face immediately pinches with concern as he sits up a bit straighter.

"Not the reaction I was hoping for," he says. "Start wherever you like."

He knows it's Hudson's way of giving him the floor. He can take his pick of where to start and work their way towards the issues. But right then, Jason just feels undirected, and he tries to mentally pick over the problem.

He spends almost five minutes, saying nothing, and then gives up.

"I don't know where to start," he admits.

"At the beginning," Hudson prompts. "What happened first?"

"I did it properly at first," he says. "I took it slow. I just got... impatient."

Hudson pauses, and Jason reads  _ concern _ in his expression. He's worried.

"You went too fast," Hudson says, and Jason nods.

"I just... took it off and looked. My shirt. Because I thought the first few weren't so bad, so maybe the others wouldn't be, and it was... it was not good."

Even thinking back on it makes him feel ill, and he sinks back into his chair as Hudson gets up, returning with a glass of water. It's a distraction he surely needs, and he sighs as he drinks from it.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "I didn't mean for... this."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Hudson says. "Part of improving means setting your own pace, and unfortunately, that often means going too fast and too slow to figure out what works for you. You've been experiencing the  _ too slow, _ and now you've experienced the  _ too fast. _ I don't think we need to linger on that any longer-" A fact that Jason is happy for, because the more he thinks about it, the worse he feels. "-so instead I'd like to focus on the  _ why." _

"...The why?"

Jason doesn't get it. The  _ why _ feels clear. He's impatient because it feels like progress has been slow. Because it feels like, years later, he should be over it.

"You have patiently endured this for years," Hudson says. "And now, rather suddenly, you're impatient."

Jason goes pink, the answer springing to mind, and he quickly busies himself staring at his hands.

"...You think this is about Joey."

"I said no such thing," Hudson says, "but he was the first thing to come to mind when I brought it up."

"That's because it's-" Jason stops himself, taking a moment to breathe, and then tries again. "Because it's embarrassing. Even if you are my therapist, it feels weird to talking about... about wanting stuff like that."

"What you do or don't do isn't my business," Hudson says. "I only care about how you feel about it."

How he feels about it. That's... complex.

"Like... No matter how long I take it's still going to be too soon," Jason says. "Like you're going to say I'm rushing into it."

"I'd think you'd know me better than that," Hudson says. "I don't generally think actions are good or bad, and I almost never just  _ say _ actions are good or bad. What matters is how  _ you _ feel about them."

Which is true, but it's still not quite  _ right. _ Whether Hudson means it or not, it's hard not to look for his approval. He's a solid outside force. Stable. He has  _ perspective. _

"But I just - it's too soon, right?"

Jason sneaks a glance at Hudson's face, and finds a distinctly unimpressed look.

"You're looking for permission," Hudson says. "You want to do more, but you're looking for permission to confirm your hope that you're ready enough for it."

Jason scowls at that.

"...And you're not going to give it to me."

"It's not up to me to give you permission," Hudson says. "I'm here to help you sort out your own feelings on the matter."

Jason groans, leaning back in his chair, frustration bubbling to the surface. Things feel like they'd be a lot easier if Hudson would just tell him yes or no.

"What's my homework?" He asks.

"None."

Jason's head jerks up, squinting at Hudson.

"None? No homework?"

"No homework," Hudson says. "You've had a long few weeks. You had your interview, and everything with Cassandra, and now this. So no homework."

The point of his homework is that it gives him direction and keeps him pushing his own limits, expanding the boundaries of what he's comfortable with. That's the point. He doesn't always have homework, but he tends to more often than not, and when he's in a good mood he almost always has it.

So  _ not _ getting any homework feels like Hudson's absolutely certain he's going to be pushing his boundaries anyway, and doesn't feel the need to assign a  _ task _ he knows is going to get done anyway.

"Sneaky," Jason mutters under his breath, and Hudson grins at him.

"Alright," he says. "We're calling it here today. Take a rest, relax, and take care of yourself. I'll see you next week."


	65. Chapter 65

Jason doesn't feel like going straight home. It feels like he's been cooped up in the house for too long, and he wants to take advantage of his time alone.

He drops by the bookstore he frequents in downtown Gotham. Not the one by the mall where Cullen works, but a smaller, family-owned store that's willing to order him in things. First editions and old collectibles line the shelves, but at least part of the store is more recent releases, and it's there that he heads first.

"Angelo," he calls, watching the man behind the counter glance up. His face is hidden almost entirely behind his shaggy blond hair, but he grins widely just at the sound of Jason's voice.

"It's been a while," he says. "I've got your usual stacked up, and a few ones I thought you might be interested in. Almost thought for a second that the  _ Batman _ had found a new bookstore."

Angelo leans against the counter, giving him a wide grin. Jason likes Angelo, although not quite enough to call him a friend. Just  _ friendly,  _ rather than something more.

"Just busy," Jason says with a wave. "Too much going on and not enough time to pick up new books."

Angelo has a literal armload of books for him, both ones he's ordered and ones he thought Jason might have been interested in. Jason gets them all, because Angelo has a  _ very _ good feel for his taste in books, and then sighs as he passes over his debit card.

"Five percent discount," Angelo says. "The one and only Batman discount." He winks, and Jason rolls his eyes.

"There's two Batmen," he points out. "Seems more like it's a five percent best customer discount."

Jason doesn't doubt for a second that he's the store's best customer. He'd be astounded if he wasn't, considering the volume (and cost) of the books he buys.

_ Someone _ has to keep the Wayne library up to date.

The store's quiet, so Angelo helps him carry the books out, loading them into the trunk of Jason's car before seeing him off. His backlog cleared, Jason weighs his options before pulling out his phone, locating the nearest specialty art supply store, and heading there.

The place is packed with people who Jason takes to be college students, and he realizes a bit too late that he's accidentally picked a store  _ right _ next to campus. He groans, weighing his options, and then decides there's nothing to be done but hoping and heads inside.

He has no idea what he's looking for. He knows Joey complained about the brushes, but when he finds the right place he's faced with the daunting task of figuring out which of the hundred-or-so brushes is the correct one for him. They all have very specialized names, and none of it makes any sense to him.

He's good and lost.

He's been furiously googling for five minutes when someone clears their throat behind him, and Jason twists around to stare at a young man who can't even be twenty. There's a pack of students a little bit farther behind him, and as best Jason can guess, they've elected the young man as their representative.

"You... uh, need any help?"

God, he absolutely does, but it's also pretty clear he's just shopping and doesn't actually work there.

"I can-" Jason starts, craning his neck around in search of an employee. "I can find a shopkeeper?"

"At this place?" The man says, raising an eyebrow. "First time in, obviously. They've got one person behind the counter and that is  _ it. _ This place is always understaffed."

Great.

"Then... yeah," Jason admits. "I'm looking for something, but I have no idea what I'm looking for."

The group—previously keeping a respectable distance—crowds in, and a young woman leans over to look at the shelves in front of him.

"What are you after?"

"A friend... paints," Jason says stupidly. Of course he paints. "He said his brushes weren't very good and I thought I should get him some new ones."

"What's he paint?" Someone asks, and Jason's pretty sure at least one of the people is surreptitiously filming him, their cell phone held oddly at his side.

"Portraits," Jason says. "He does a bit of everything, but lately he's done portraiture."

"What kind of paints?"

"Oil, I think?"

"Does he mind synthetic bristles?"

"...No idea," Jason says, having absolutely no idea what the difference is.

"...Is budget a concern?" Someone else asks, and there's a round of laughter.

"No," Jason says, cracking a smile. "Budget is not a concern."

It turns out that brushes are a hotly debated subject, because every single student (Jason imagines they must be art students to have such intense opinions on such minor differences) has a completely different opinion on which ones he should buy. It takes almost thirty minutes for them to come to a consensus, producing a massive set that one summarizes as 'pretty much everything he could possibly want, in the highest possible quality'.

There seem to be a  _ lot _ more people by the time Jason announces that he wants some more canvases, and this, at least, seems to be less contested.

"These ones are the best this place sells," one of the students says. "This is a standard enough size and they sell like, dozens of these a day, so they'll work well enough."

Jason grabs a stack, which mostly means someone  _ else _ grabs a stack and offers to carry it for him.

Jason's pretty sure he could spend all day at the store, but he's also worried that if he does there will be so many people crammed in that he's not going to be able to leave when he's done. The store probably had thirty people in it when he entered, and now it's easily tripled that as more and more people filter in to gawk.

Jason weighs the pros and cons as he heads over to the checkout. There is indeed just one person working, and they squint at the massive crowd, clearly wary of what's causing the disruption. When the worker spots Jason, she immediately seems to understand, straightening up a bit as Jason's pack of helpers drop his purchases on the counter for him.

He's not entirely sure how the hell he's going to get it all into his car, but he'll have to make do.

Jason has never in his life been so happy that he's good with faces.

"I'll take all of this," Jason says, "and then give me..." He mentally rifles through the list. "Eight fifty dollar gift cards."

The art supplies turn out to cost more than he thought, but he still comes in  _ well _ under his hobby budget by the time he's done. It draws more attention then he's comfortable with making sure the people who helped him actually get the gift cards, but he's also not going to just take advantage of their help and then walk away with nothing.

He thanks all of them personally, and most of them turn the gift card down entirely. Jason wings it, dropping the remaining cards with the woman behind the counter.

"Use them for anyone buying school supplies," Jason says. "Until they're empty."

Jason wasn't  _ born _ into money, and he knows what it's like trying to scrape the money together for essentials. Helping some college students stretch their budgets seems like a good enough cause for him, and he considers it more or less over by the time he makes it out of the shop.

Of course it's not, though.

"Hey, uh, Mr. Wilson-Wayne?"

"Jason," he corrects automatically. "Yeah?"

The one asking is the same one who approached him in the first place, the apparent representative to the group that first spotted him.

"Could we get a picture?"

Jason doesn't normally  _ do _ pictures. Part of it is paranoia. Part of it is Bruce and Slade rubbing off on him. But right then he's in a good enough mood, and he figures that it can't hurt.

"Sure," he says. "If you want."

He's pretty sure it won't go over well if he tries to play it down, so he doesn't even try. Batman's practically an institution, and he reminds himself that they're not interested in  _ him:  _ they're interested in what he represents.

"Thanks for the help," Jason says once they've crowded everyone in, taken the photo (with multiple phone cameras), and then loaded everything into his car. "You guys saved my ass in there."

"It's confusing," someone says. "Everyone gets lost their first time around."

"Apparently," Jason says with a laugh. "Pretty sure I'd be getting lost my tenth time around."

Most of them linger in the parking lot, waving him off as he pulls out, and even if it took way longer than expected, Jason's still happy that he went.


	66. Chapter 66

Jason's about halfway home when his phone rings, and he taps the button on the steering wheel to pick up, keeping his eyes on the road.

"What's up?" He says, resisting the urge to check caller ID.

"Where are you?" Bruce asks, and Jason huffs.

"On my way back. Why?"

"You're normally back by now. I was wondering if you'd been kidnapped or something."

"Last I checked I hadn't," Jason says. "I went to the bookstore and did some errands. There's traffic, you know."

"Diana's here when you get home," Bruce says. "See you soon."

Joey and Damian are waiting for him when he gets back to the manor, and both look  _ unbelievably _ smug.

"What?" Jason asks as he climbs out, squinting at the pair of them. Damian trots right up, looking pleased as he peeks in the back window.

Oh no.

"Hold on," Jason says. "How do you know?"

_ Social media,  _ Joey signs. He pulls out his phone, pulling up the photo taken not even thirty minutes earlier, and Jason lets out a groan.

"Already?"

So much for a surprise.

"I've got books in the back," Jason says. "Supplies in the middle." He feels a pang of regret for not having gotten Damian anything in particular, but plays it off as best he can. "I got Joey his own set of brushes so he can stop borrowing yours, and I got some canvases for both of you."

Joey leans over to give him a peck on the cheek, and Jason goes pink.

"Diana's here?" He asks in an attempt to cover his embarrassment.

"She's currently discussing the matter of Cassandra with our father," Damian says. "I will accept your gift, by the way."

He steals two of the canvases for himself, heading right on inside without helping unload the car. Jason rolls his eyes, grabbing the books first, and makes two trips to get it all inside. He takes the books to the library to get sorted through later, and lets Joey handle the brushes, catching him inspecting them carefully as he brings them in.

"I had no idea what to get," he admits. "I had to ask a pack of college student what was good."

_ I heard, _ Joey signs, looking almost painfully amused.  _ There's like a hundred social media posts about Batman wandering around an art supply store looking lost. _

"Then why did Bruce call to ask where I was?" Jason asks, absolutely baffled.

_ Probably didn't see them, _ Joey signs.  _ He's been in his office since I got back. _

"Hopefully nothing  _ too _ bad," Jason mutters under his breath.

He has the books all put away and is settled in the kitchen when Bruce finally emerges from his office with Slade in tow. Diana comes out just behind them, but Jason doesn't even get a chance to say hello before Diana snags Cassandra, heading back into the office.

"Diana's working on it," Slade says pointedly. "Has to talk to Cassandra, obviously, but she's old enough to get some amount of say in what's going to happen to her."

"Is Diana staying for dinner?"

"Doubt it," Slade says. "She was really just here to sort this out."

"I suspect I'm about to have a lot to do," Wintergreen says, folding his arms across his chest. "Inspections and what have you."

"I would imagine as much," Alfred agrees. "I'm sure you're well aware that if you need anything, you need only ask?"

"Of course."

Slade reaches over, ruffling Jason's hair, and Jason swats his hand away.

"What was that for?"

"Accidentally burying our latest scandal," Slade says. "Most people are too busy being amused at you being useless at shopping to pay any attention to the  _ other _ story that broke today."

Jason raises an eyebrow, and Slade doesn't make him ask.

"Someone at Blackgate says that the Waynes made an appearance there to speak to a prisoner," he explains. "Only they don't have any photos, so it's just an unconfirmed rumor. Eventually they'll pick up on it, but the worst of the reveal's been accidentally defused."

How something comes out often matters as much as  _ what _ is coming out in Jason's experience, so while it was completely accidental, he can't help but be relieved.

"Have you thought about putting out a... press release?"

"That my sort-of-father was the one arrested?" Bruce asks. "I considered and dismissed it. It just draws attention to it. If it becomes too big, we can deal with it then, but I have other things to do."

Damian leans over, squinting up at Bruce.

"Other things?"

"The other news Diana brought is that they want me down to give statements on the Luthor issue. Everyone's debating the merits of giving him a plea deal at the moment."

Jason makes a face at that. Considering how many people were killed because of Luthor's plans...

"I don't like it either," Bruce says, "but I'm realistic. It would be a huge waste of time and money for everyone involved. Luthor has so many charges stacked against him for so many things that his plea deal would  _ still _ put him in prison until he's grey. What he's fighting for is accomodations  _ while _ in prison."

"Give them to him," Jason says, and everyone turns to look at them. Most of them look startled, but Jason can't imagine  _ why. _

"Prison's awful," Jason says. "He did a lot of awful things. Doesn't mean he deserves to rot in a hole."

_ That _ clues them in, and Damian reaches out, taking Jason's hand and giving it a little squeeze.

"I'll weigh in this week," Bruce says. "I think everyone would like for this to be done with."

Bruce most of all.

"Well," Slade says, clearly making an effort to break the tension, "while we're all here I thought I'd point out the obvious. It's been almost two weeks, and we haven't made the videos to send back. They said around two weeks, so... I vote we do our videos while we still have everyone."

Jason's sure he means Cassandra.

"We should do one for their Alfred," Jason says. "He's having a hard time. Might as well let him know that we support him at least."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it," Alfred says. "Might I recommend that we all do our own videos tonight, and then do a group video in the morning, before Master Damian leaves for his class?"

There's a round of agreement, and the conversation moves on. Diana doesn't end up staying for dinner, but Cassandra does joni them, looking happier than she has been since she arrived. Jason tells himself it's because she's being  _ heard, _ not just because she's leaving, and she seems amenable to the idea of making a video for her counterpart, even if Jason has absolutely no idea how she's expected to communicate.

Jason mostly leaves that for Bruce and Slade. He has his own video to make, and he weighs his options before grabbing one of the cameras from the cave and heading into his room. His last video was more formal, recorded down in the cave, but this one? He wants this to feel more personal, so he sits on his bed, sets up the handheld camera, and starts to record.

"So," he says. "I'll dispense with the  _ if you're getting this _ speech. I think we can both be pretty sure at this point that it does work, so there's that. I guess this is more like a penpal thing and more like a potentially family-destroying crisis response, so I'm going to just try and... keep it easy. I'm sure someone'll make a big 'for the family' video that'll explain everything that happened, so I'll just focus on the me stuff."

Which is easier said than done. Where does he even start with the  _ me stuff? _

"Iiiiiiii've had a bit of a hard time. Last time you got a video was when Bruce was coming over to fix stuff. A lot happened since then. We had to go public, and now everyone knows who I am. I did an interview and I... basically told the public what happened to me. Not everything, but  _ enough. _ It's weird having people know me. I don't know if you have the phrase  _ The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, _ but... yeah. That. People know who I am. I'm a public figure. Everyone knows what I went through, and they know I was Batman, and they know I was Raptor. Today I went to go pick some art supplies up and had like thirty college students swarming me. It was like... like being a celebrity, I guess. Not really sure how I feel but I'm definitely coming down on the  _ this is uncomfortable and I wish it'd stop _ side of things."

God, is he. He's ready for it to be over. Really, he's also a little bit ready for everyone  _ else _ to start being the focus of things. Maybe it won't be so bad if things are spread around.

"On... more personal notes, I guess I should tell you that Joey's doing well. From what I got, you guys didn't really have much of a relationship, but we..." Oh hell, he  _ knows _ he's blushing, and he considers scrapping the recording entirely before giving in. "We're dating," he confesses. "He's settling in nicely and a whole  _ thing _ happened and now... we are. That's a thing." God he's useless at this, isn't he? "I don't know how it is with you, but this is the first time for me, and he's been taking it really slow. So that's... my life. Taking it slow. Trying not to freak out."

He has no idea where to go from there, and there's a few moments of silence before he offers a shrug.

"Kind of envious that you've got a pack of kids to take care of, but I feel like you'll probably be envious of the fact that I get to kick my feet up at home not doing much of anything. I guess it's a you win some, you lose some sort of situation."

But Jason knows the truth. He's better off then the other Jason. He has Slade and Bruce and  _ family. _ People back him up. He's loved by the public.

His heart breaks for his counterpart, and he shakes it off before it becomes too obvious.

"Going to call it there," he says. "Figured I'd let you know, since I don't think you'll get that mentioned in the big  _ what's going on _ video. Hope to hear from you soon."

He reaches forward, turning off the camera, and sags back into his bed.

He makes sure his video gets to Slade down in the cave (who is rather pointedly  _ not _ recording a video for his counterpart, even if he says he's going to make one for the other Wintergreen), and then heads back upstairs.

Before he goes to bed, he makes an attempt to check on Cassandra, but it's over before he even starts: she's settled in the living room with Wintergreen, and he's talking quietly. The tone of voice makes it clear to Jason that it's a  _ serious _ conversation, so he quickly backs out, heading for his room instead.


	67. Chapter 67

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sexual content in this chapter.

Jason wakes with Joey's name on his lips. He feels wet, soaked with sweat, and when he glances down at himself he lets out a groan.

A wet dream. He's had a  _ wet dream, _ like he's some kind of horny teenager. He hasn't had a wet dream since... ever, basically. He can't even remember the last time, and the fact that he's having one  _ now _ feels like it means things he doesn't want to think about it.

He'd  _ really _ rather not think about it.

He takes a freezing shower rather than dealing with the issue, but even then he has to address the fact that he's stained his sheets. He strips the bed and makes it all the way to the washing machine before he runs into Alfred, who's in the midst of loading that exact washing machine.

Jason wishes he had the power to just spontaneously drop dead. Nothing would make him happier.

Alfred, to his  _ immense _ credit, does not comment. Instead he simply reaches out, taking the sheets, and loading them directly into the washing machine.

Jason mumbles a thank you and bolts.

He spends the morning hiding out in the library, buried in the nice safe reality of books. He doesn't get a chance to stay there, because Slade leans in just before lunch.

"What happened to making videos?" He asks, and Jason groans.

"Forgot," he admits, setting his book down. "Mine's done. Just the family one, right?"

"Bruce already did the 'explain what's been going on' part," Slade explains as they head out of the library. "Now we're just doing the general greeting and introductions. Sit down, introduce ourselves so they have a whole shot of all of us, and then we're done."

They did  _ something _ like that, but it wasn't everyone, and there's more of them anyway.

"What about the Kents?" He asks.

"We talked about it and decided that'd be next video. For now, just family."

Just family turns out to include everyone currently staying in the house, including Wintergreen. They do a round of introductions, and Bruce does most of the talking. Jason wonders what the other side must think of them, and then decides that they probably feel a lot like the other Jason must: envious. They've just had their family start to collapse in on itself, and meanwhile  _ this _ version of their family is pulling even tighter together.

It's a nice thought, and one that helps him relax.

They gather around and watch as Slade activates the box, their videos safely nestled inside.

"Two weeks?" Jason says. "Seems like a long time."

"I wouldn't be surprised if it was sooner," Bruce says. "Remember, they're also using this to check on Joey and make sure he's doing alright. They might be eager enough to send it back sooner."

They head back upstairs to have lunch, and Jason dwells on things he probably shouldn't.

It takes him until early that afternoon to work up the courage to make the call. Damian and Joey are off at class, which means he has some privacy, but he makes a point of calling from the relative privacy of his room to make sure Slade doesn't  _ accidentally _ overhear. His bed already made once again as if nothing was ever amiss, and Jason flops down on it, letting out a preemptive groan when the other side picks up.

"What happened?" Dick asks, and Jason rolls his eyes.

"If something happened, I wouldn't be calling you on your personal cell phone. That's not how we handle emergencies."

"Ah," Dick says with a tone of voice that does nothing other than piss Jason off. "Boy trouble."

Jason chokes.

"What? How-"

"You're calling me by yourself, with no warning, and you haven't gotten to the point, which means you're feeling weird about asking. Plus, you called  _ me _ rather than Tim, and apparently it couldn't wait for the next time I was down there. Considering what I know is going on in the house..."

Jason lets out a groan.

"If you already know everything, you might as well tell me the answers I seek, oh oracle of relationships."

"I think  _ Oracle _ can confirm I'm not the best at relationships," Dick says with a laugh. "I can manage boys, though. So what's your question?"

Jason drags his fingers through his hair, weighing the pros and cons of telling Dick too much versus too little, and finally settles on  _ more _ probably being better than  _ less. _

"I want to... move forward," Jason says with a noise of frustration. "And I'm pretty sure Joey's slammed the breaks because he realized... I mean, yes, I need slow, but right now our pace is  _ glacial, _ and I want to push forward, but... how."

"Okay, you're going to kill me for this," Dick says, and Jason just  _ knows _ he's grinning like an idiot at the phone, "but how far have you guys gone?"

Jason groans. The conversation is  _ excruciating. _ "We... kissed."

There's silence on the other end.

"...That's it?"

Jason groans.

"You aren't helping, asshole."

"Alright alright," Dick says. "I get it. This is a big deal for you. So you want to move past that."

Jason cannot fucking  _ believe _ he's getting advice from Dick. Worse, he can't believe he  _ asked _ . What was he thinking? He must have had some kind of miniature stroke to think that this was a good idea.

"Biggest thing is communication. You need to  _ tell _ Joey you're interested in going further."

"Thanks for the hot tip," Jason grumbles to himself.

"I mean it," Dick says. "You're overcomplicating things. Next time you guys are getting snuggly-"

_ "Please _ don't put it that way."

"Next time you guys are getting snuggly, just tell him you gave it some thought and you want to try moving things on from there."

Jason groans into the phone.

"Why did I even call you," he says. "This was a terrible idea."

"Just try it," Dick says. "Just tell him that and let things progress naturally. Just... do what feels right and stop second guessing yourself."

"Dick, that's what I  _ do," _ Jason mutters. "I second guess myself."

"Pretend Joey's a supervillain and the only way to beat him is to get in his pants. That'll solve the problem."

"...I hate you, Dick."

"Love you too, Jay," Dick says.

He sags into the bed, says his goodbyes, and hangs up.

The moment the call's over, Jason sags his head into the bed, letting out a groan and wondering why the hell he thought  _ calling Dick Grayson for relationship advice _ would be a good idea.


	68. Chapter 68

Jason gets ambushed just after leaving his room. Slade's near the kitchen, leaning against the wall, and when he spots Jason he straightens up, producing a letter and holding it out for Jason to take.

"Mail," he says. "For you."

Which doesn't make any sense. Mail should have already  _ been _ there. It usually arrives around lunch, and it's well past that, which means...

Jason looks down at the letter, notes the  _ Santa Prisca _ stamp, and glares at Slade, snatching the letter away.

"You  _ went through my mail?" _

"I didn't read it," Slade says, defensive. "When you're getting letters from foreign warlords, I have the right to check and make sure there's no anthrax coming along for the ride."

"If he was going to kill me, he'd have done it while he had me alone," Jason says. "He's not going to poison me."

"Plenty of reasons he might have wanted you alive then and dead now," Slade says. "So forgive me if I don't trust a foreign warlord."

"If we hadn't faked your death, you'd be two or three times as wanted as Bane," Jason says. "You don't have a leg to stand on."

"I don't trust him  _ because _ I was that level of wanted," Slade counters. "I know what people like him are capable of because I'm  _ also _ capable of it."

Jason grunts, unable to think of a proper counter to that.

"No anthrax?"

"I didn't read it, but the letter came back clean. No substances. Return address is a fake name to a post box in Santa Prisca."

Jason tries not to look  _ too _ smug, because he knows Slade's just worried about him, but that doesn't stop him from tearing the letter open, flipping it open to read. The handwriting is fine and precise, and about as far from what people would expect from someone like Bane as possible. Even so, Jason doesn't doubt for a moment that he wrote the letter himself.

_ Dear Jason, _

_ Hopefully you'll forgive the manner of contact. Our internet connection in Santa Prisca tends to be highly unreliable, while our postal system is one of the most reliable in the world.  _

_ Even so- _

Slade clears his throat, and Jason flips his eyes up to glare at him.

"Are you going to read it?"

"I  _ am _ reading it," Jason says. "Are you really expecting me to read it out loud?"

Slade's look makes it clear that the answer is  _ yes, _ and Jason groans, starting back from the top, reading the letter out loud.

"Even so, I did wish to contact you directly and let you know how things turned out. Our mutual friends have been excelling at their job, although they have been very busy. The gift you gave me on the last day of your visit was invaluable, and I can't thank you enough for it.

"If you or your family are ever in Santa Prisca again, please don't hesitate to call. I'd love to show you around the island and give you a better idea of what we have to offer than what is offered in a few resorts.

"If you wish to get in touch, my address has changed. Please use the return address on the envelope, and I'll be sure to get the message in a timely manner.

"All the best, B."

He glances up to find Slade squinting intensely at him as he works through all the veiled implications of the letter.

"So he's been getting his money's worth out of French and them," Slade says.  _ "Very busy _ probably means  _ lots of assassination attempts."  _

Jason doesn't object, and he skims over the letter again before neatly folding it up, inspecting the envelope again.

"Seems pretty simple," Jason says. "If we're visiting, let him know, thanks for the information we dropped off, letters are the safest method of communication. He's hoping I'll write back, but isn't counting on it."

"But you're going tol," Slade says flatly.

"That's the plan," Jason says. "Going to start writing letters to everyone like it's the 1800s."

"Just be careful."

"I'm not an idiot," Jason says with a roll of his eyes. "Coded language, don't put in anything incriminating, and so on."

"That's my boy," Slade says with a grin. "I don't like you keeping in touch, but if you're going to keep in touch... at least keep me in the loop."

"I'm going to just add him to the pile," Jason says. "I've got letters to write to Thomas, and I want to write to Rose too, so that's three letters to write semi-regularly."

"Plus videos to your alternate self," Slade says. "So much for  _ writing letters like it's the 1800s." _

Jason rolls his eyes, and Slade's expression shifts, becoming more serious.

"...What?" Jason asks, suddenly wary.

"You doing alright? You've been acting weird today. You hid away in the library-"

Oh  _ god. _ Jason's face burns red.

"Oh," Slade says, his grin returning. "It's one of  _ those _ things."

"We are not having this conversation."

"Apparently we are," Slade says, his grin going even wider. Goddamn him, he's  _ enjoying this, _ isn't he? "Boy trouble?"

"Dad,  _ please,  _ isn't this weird for you? Even a bit?"

"Tormenting your son over his sudden desires is a time honored tradition that I'm happy I didn't miss out on," Slade says. "I already did the speech, so it's-"

"You  _ what?" _

Slade doesn't even stop grinning.

"Played rock paper scissors with your father for it," Slade says. "I won, so I got to sit Joey down and give him the speech."

Jason lets out a groan, squeezing his eyes shut. He can't be serious. He  _ can't. _

"Please don't tell me you seriously gave Joey the  _ if you break my son's heart I'll kill you _ speech."

"It was more along the lines of  _ this is Jason's first relationship and we'd appreciate it if you took things slowly,  _ but yes, he did get a speech. It's practically mandatory."

"It is absolutely  _ not _ mandatory. Do you not... I don't know, find this... weird? He's... sort of your son, and..."

"He's not my son. He's the other Slade's son," Slade's expression goes grim, and Jason's sure there's an unspoken  _ and I'll kill him for it _ or something like that. "Joey doesn't want... that. He doesn't want me to try and be his father. So I'm not going to. Instead, he's just a friend of the family who  _ happens _ to be dating my son. That means treating him like I'd treat anyone  _ else _ who tried to date you."

Jason leans against the wall, trying not to look directly at Slade's face. The conversation got  _ serious, _ and he doesn't like it.

"Do I wish that my Joey was still alive? Absolutely. I'd like to think you two would have gotten along. But the one with us now isn't him. He's... a different person. So I've put what  _ I _ want from him aside. What matters is how Joey feels about me... and how he feels about  _ you." _

Okay. He can... kind of sort of deal with that.

"He's nice," Jason says. "Doesn't go too fast. Accommodating."

"If you need relationship advice," Slade says pointedly, "remember to ask me, not your father. He's useless at that kind of thing."

"I asked Dick."

Slade winces.

"Bad idea," he says. "You know Tim and Barb are going to hear about it, and it's only a matter of time before me and Bruce hear about it too."

Jason groans.

"Hopefully not," he says.  _ "Please _ not."

"I'll tell him to cram it if he tries," Slade says. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks. It-" Jason falters at the sound of the security system signalling an arrival, and he glances towards the front of the house.

"Joey and Damian?"

"Your father's out back by the graveyard, so most likely them. No one else is out of the house, anyway."

Jason doesn't have long to wait. Damian tears into the house with Jon hot on his heels, but he skips right past Jason, heading down into the cave.

"Woah there," Jason calls as he goes after them. "Where do you think you're going?"

"We're supposed to bring an object to draw next class," Jon says. "Jon said he'd bring the cowl."

"A batarang is a weapon, so it wouldn't be good to bring it," Damian calls as he goes right for the suits. "The cowl is perfect."

"What happened to  _ low profile?" _ Jason asks. "You're not supposed to be rubbing this in."

"Everyone knows who he is," Jon says with a grin. "Everyone thinks it's cool!"

"Jon's envious because he can't bring anything important," Damian says as he retrieves the cowl. "It would be highly suspect if he arrived with something of Superman's."

Boy would it.

"How about something less blatant," Jason says. "We've got-"

"I already said I would bring the cowl," Damian says, the aforementioned cowl wrapped in his arms. "I can't  _ not _ bring it now."

"You're not taking the cowl without someone tagging along with it. I'm not having someone make off with it while you're distracted."

"Good," Damian says, looking insufferably smug. "You can come along too."

Jason lets out a groan, but he knows he's already doomed. There's no saying no to Damian once he's got his mind set on something. If it's something dangerous? Sure, he'll shut that down. But something like this which is largely harmless? Well, it's hard to say no when his art classes are one of the few social activities where Damian gets to interact with people his own age.

"Fine," he says. "But put the cowl back.  _ I'll _ bring it next Monday."

Damian huffs, but does end up putting it back before Jason herds them both back up the stairs, re-sealing the cave.

Just to be sure that nothing  _ mysteriously goes missing _ ahead of the next art class, he makes a point of shifting permissions on the cave. There's no reason for anyone to go down there, so he adjusts the parameters to notify him if Damian (or, god help him,  _ Jon) _ sneaks down without someone along with them.

Joey's clearly in a good mood when Jason makes it back to the main floor, and when Damian and Jon run off to the Kent house, he leans over, giving Jason a peck on the cheek.

_ Miss me? _ He signs.

"You don't know the half of it," Jason mumbles under his breath. Cassandra and Wintergreen are, as far as he's aware, over in the library. Bruce is out back, which leaves only Alfred and Slade wandering the house. Those are the best odds Jason imagines he's going to get, so he steels his nerve and goes for it.

"I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about," he says, voice catching in his throat. "If you have time?"

_ Alfred actually wanted to know if I'd be willing to help with meal prep, _ he signs.  _ Maybe after dinner? _

Jason doesn't think he could say no if he tried, so he simply nods.

"That works just fine for me. I'll come over to-" Split second decision. "-your room, if that's alright?" Joey's room sounds like a better option. Joey's room means that he can leave any time he wants, which feels a lot less awkward than trying to kick Joey out if anything goes weird.

_ Sure, _ Joey signs back. _ Going to help with dinner, or do you have plans? _

Jason doesn't have plans, so he ends up helping with dinner, a fact that Alfred clearly appreciates.clearly appreciates. The more he thinks about it, the more convinced he becomes that it's probably better to wait anyway. It gives them more time.

More time he's hoping he'll need.

"I spoke to Miss Prince," Wintergreen says once they've settled in to dinner. "They're open to the idea of Cassandra moving in with me, but obviously want to investigate first. Assuming it's alright with you, I'll be going to make a trip back on Thursday to make sure things are in order."

"Of course," Bruce says automatically. "We can keep an eye on Cassandra while you're gone."

Cassandra doesn't look up, or even really acknowledge that she's being spoken about. Jason suspects Wintergreen's already talked with her about it anyway, so he lets it pass.

Dinner seems to  _ drag, _ and Jason finds himself getting increasingly impatient as it goes on. He wants it to be done, and he has to fight to keep from looking too impatient.

"Jason," Damian asks, and he startles, his own food already done.

"Yeah?"

"Jon is having a board game night tonight. Did you want to come?"

Oh  _ hell _ no.

"Sorry Damian," Jason says, maybe a  _ little _ bit too quickly. "I actually was going to get to work writing my letters tonight."

"Letters?" Damian asks, scrunching his face up.

"Jason's decided to be penpals with a warlord," Slade clarifies.

"Why do you call him that?" Jason says. "Just say his name."

"I just want to make absolutely sure you remember who it is you're dealing with."

"Does he know about me?" Damian asks. "We're talking about Bane, right?"

Jason's pretty sure Bane and Damian have never so much as exchanged a single word, but he doesn't get a chance to reply before Bruce butts in.

"No," Bruce says, "and I'd rather it stay that way." He gives Jason a pointed look, and Jason grins.

"Won't mention the family," he says. "Don't worry."

"Feel free to remind him of your scary dads," Slade mutters. "Just in case he forgot."

_ He really wasn't that bad, _ Joey signs.  _ His men were very polite. Treated us like guests and all. _

"I personally have no objections to this friendship," Alfred says, catching Jason off guard. "I think it will be good for both of them. If Bane is bettered through his friendship with Jason, all the better for everyone."

Alfred's word is law, and no one brings up any objections after that. The fact that Jason's just outright lied doesn't weigh on him as much as he should, because there's not a version of him in  _ any _ universe who'd confess to Damian what he was  _ actually _ planning.


	69. Chapter 69

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sexual content in this chapter.

He cleans up after dinner at record speed, making his excuses and heading down to his room. Already he's feeling anxious: should he shower? Is there anything he needs to do?

He tells himself it doesn't really matter, but  _ does _ end up brushing his cheek, combing out his hair, and generally trying to make himself look as presentable as possible. He tries to gauge how long it would take for Joey to break away from the family, and only then does he peek into the hallway for an all-clear, heading to Joey's room and knocking once.

The ten or so seconds it takes for Joey to open the door might be the longest of his life.

Joey's actually changed, which makes Jason feel painfully unprepared. He's got nice slacks on and a button up shirt, and all Jason's wearing is an old T-shirt and jeans.

"I can go-" He starts, faltering when Joey starts to sign.

_ Don't stress about it, _ Joey signs.  _ Come on in. _

He pushes the door open and Jason steps inside, taking a look around. It looks the same as it did last time, although the blinds are (thankfully) closed, and Joey closes the door behind them, turning around to look at him.

_ You wanted to talk? _ He signs, even though Jason has his earpiece in.

Oh right. He said  _ talk. _ As much as he's wound himself up to it mentally, he hasn't actually  _ told _ Joey any of that.

"I... wanted to talk to you about... uh, us."

Joey's face pinches with worry.

_ Everything alright? _

"No, I mean - things are great. More than great. Which is why I wanted to talk." Jason feels a stab of guilt for scaring Joey, because it feels obvious to Jason that he thought it was a  _ we need to break up _ or something like that. Something bad. Something not... this. "I just wanted-"

He has to stop, taking a deep breath as he tries to compose his thoughts. Easier said than done with Joey staring at him, his eyebrows raised, his expression perplexed.

"I just wanted to... tell you that we can... we don't need to go this slow."

Is it too cliche to say he wants to take things to the  _ next step? _

Joey stares at him blankly for a moment, and then his face lights up.

_ Oh! _ He signs.  _ I was prepared for something  _ way _ different than that. _

"Sorry, I should have... I don't know, said it was a good talk, not a bad talk. I just-"

He's babbling, but he doesn't get to continue babbling, because Joey steps forward. The moment Joey's in his  _ space _ his brain derails, and when Joey wraps an arm around Jason's lower back he's pretty sure his brain stops working entirely.

He has to  _ try, _ though.

"I just.. Like you. And I know you - I don't know if -"

"Jason," Joey says in his ear, his hands occupied. "I, without question, would like to mess around. If you're alright with it, then we can. You just have to promise to tell me if you want to stop for any reason, alright?"

Jason nods, not trusting his mouth to actually just say  _ yes _ without rambling off again.

Joey leans in to kiss him and Jason stops thinking at all. Mercifully, he feels  _ slightly _ less out of his depth this time around. He's able to stay in the moment rather than mentally drifting off, enjoying the feel of Joey pressed up against him. Jason hesitates, and then lets his hands find a place on Joey's hips, feeling the muscle there and very nearly biting his own lip accidentally from the distraction of it.

Joey breaks the kiss, looking down at him with an intense expression.

"Sit down," Joey says, and Jason does. Jason's pretty sure Joey could tell him to cough up the League's secrets and he'd still do it without hesitation so long as he was giving him that same look. The bed sags under his weight, and Joey slides over, sitting down beside him as he reaches up, his hand tangling in Jason's shirt as he kisses him again.

Jason's pretty sure they could just spend the next two hours kissing and he'd be happy. He just doesn't think  _ Joey _ would be happy.

Or maybe he would. It's hard to tell what Joey wants, and Dick's advice—something about communication he can't really remember—sort of hangs in his head.

"Do you-" Jason splutters in between kisses. "-do you want this?"

Joey's mouth is too occupied with kissing him to answer, so he lets his hand do it for him: his right hand drops down, cupping Jason's crotch through his pants and giving it a squeeze.

It's the most blatant  _ yes _ Jason could imagine, and it makes him jump. His arms shift up, wrapping around Joey's shoulders, and he finds himself tipping backwards until his back hits the bed, the kiss temporarily broken.

"...I'll take that as a yes," Jason mumbles to himself, and Joey's body shakes in what he's come to recognize as laughter.

"It's a yes," Joey says as he hovers over Jason. "I would do a  _ lot _ of things with you, but I want you to enjoy it and not just feel overwhelmed, which means going slow."

"I had a-" Jason confesses, faltering as he stares up at Joey's face. "-a dream. About you. And us doing... stuff like this."

"Was it a good dream?" Joey asks, grinning down at him. Jason gets the impression that he's enjoying it—not just the screwing around, but the fact that Jason is so unbelievably flustered by the whole thing.

Jason doesn't trust himself to speak when Joey's giving him  _ that look, _ so he just nods.

Joey reaches down, running his fingers along Jason's waistband, and then moves his hand up, sliding his hand under the fabric of Jason's shirt. Jason feels his breath hitch, and  _ not _ in a nice way, and he reaches up, grabbing Joey's wrist.

"Sorry," he blurts. "Sorry, can we just - can I just... keep my clothes on?"

It's stupid. It's stupid and probably a little (or a lot) sad, but Joey doesn't look bothered as he nods, shifting his hand down to squeeze Jason's hip instead.

"I can do that," he says. "Or if you want, we can always turn the lights off."

The idea is nice, but... Jason's face  _ burns, _ and he makes himself say it out loud.

"I kind of want to... see you," he says. "You were shirtless back in Santa Prisca, but I wasn't really... looking."

Joey silently laughs again, and then reaches up, unbuttoning the top button and starting to work his way down.

"Like this?"

_ Absolutely _ like that. Jason can't tear his eyes away as Joey reveals inch after inch of skin. He's... he's fit. Muscular.  _ Astoundingly _ good looking.

"You can touch, you know," Joey says, and Jason is maybe a bit too eager to do just that, reaching up to drag his fingers across the skin of Joey's chest.

Even his  _ skin _ is soft, and Jason wonders how he managed to end up with someone as attractive as Joey is. He's perilously close to  _ perfect, _ and he's-

"Stop that," Joey says, and Jason snaps back to the moment to find Joey frowning down at him. "You were getting lost in your own head."

Going to a bad place, and Jason swallows hard, nodding his head.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "You're just very - you're  _ really _ attractive."

"I've been told," Joey says, grinning once again, and he settles back a bit. He's effectively  _ sitting _ on Jason's hips, and that is... it is  _ not _ a good position, because-

"Ah," Joey says, reaching back, and Jason arches into the touch as Joey presses the base of his palm against Joey's crotch.

He's hard. He's  _ really _ hard. Joey's straddling his hips with his shirt hanging open and how could he  _ not _ be hard looking up at that? There's no way. He doesn't think anyone has that kind of strength.

"Can I blow you?" Jason blurts, and Joey looks surprised for a moment before he recovers.

"Forward," he says. "If you want." He doesn't ask if Jason knows how, because Jason absolutely doesn't, but he does roll off him, sitting back on the bed as Jason straightens up. He takes a moment to adjust himself—he  _ really _ should have worn different pants, because his jeans are already deeply uncomfortable—and then moves over, staring down at Joey.

Somehow, the fact that Joey's shirt is still on, just  _ open _ feels even more attractive than if he was just shirtless. It doesn't make any sense to Jason, but it's still  _ true. _

"You're so hot," Jason mumbles to himself as Joey props himself up, his back pressed against the pillows as Joey watches. "It's not even fair how hot you are."

He leans over Joey, leaning down for a kiss that  _ he's _ in control of, but doesn't linger too long before pulling back. Joey still has pants on, and that... he needs to deal with that, doesn't he?

"Pants on, or...?"

_ Up to you, _ Joey signs, and Jason hates that, because it means he has to actually make a  _ choice, _ and he's pretty sure he has exactly one brain cell left in his body and it's relocated from his skull to his dick.

"No pants," he says. It seems easier. Also, he's worried he's going to ruin Joey's nice pants, which would be a genuine shame (and require explanations that he doesn't want to give).

Joey lifts his hips, reaching down to slip his thumbs into the side of his pants. He doesn't even unbutton them, just shifts a bit and slides them down, revealing dark black boxers with a  _ clear _ erection underneath.

It feels good to see it. It means that he's affecting Joey as much as Joey's affecting him. It makes him feel almost giddy to see, and he reaches down as Joey finishes pushing his pants off, miming the same gesture Joey did to him: pressing the heel of his palm against the bulge there and watching the way Joey rocks his hips in response.

He's seen people naked before. It shouldn't be a big deal. But there's something undeniably different about it as he reaches down, hooking his fingers under the waistband of Joey's boxers and pulling them down.

His first impression, before anything else, is that he wants it in his mouth. Maybe it's a weird thing to think, but staring at it all his brain can process is an intense desire to just take it into his mouth and  _ suck, _ and it's only sheer common sense that keeps him from doing exactly that.

"Tell me - tell me what I should be doing."

He should have read a guide. He should have google searched  _ tips for blowjobs _ and dealt with the possible risk of Bruce noticing. Instead he's basically got nothing but his own imagination and what he's picked up from literature and pop culture.

Joey seems to know  _ exactly _ what to do.

_ Don't go too fast, _ he signs.  _ Do what feels right. Lips over teeth. Tongue's important. _

It's like the world's most direct bullet points, which Jason's happy for. He's not sure he could manage anything too complex, so he tries to just  _ do what feels right, _ leaning down to kiss the tip.

He loves the way Joey's body twitches at the touch, his breath catching as Jason repeats the gesture. He doesn't really mind the taste, but the  _ idea _ of Joey on his tongue is a heady thing, and he runs his tongue down the side.

He  _ really _ should have watched more porn. He feels like he'd have a much better idea of what he should be doing, because all he can do is guess, his eyes flicking up to watch Joey's reaction to things.

_ Good, _ Joey signs, and Jason reaches his own hand back to press down against his crotch. Jeans were a truly,  _ truly _ awful idea. He's getting more uncomfortable by the second, and tries to distract himself from it by focusing on Joey. He bobs his head down, careful with his teeth, but he has a hard time focusing on what his head  _ and _ his tongue are doing at the same time.

He'd be convinced he was doing an absolutely terrible job if it weren't for the look on Joey's face. His gaze is intense, his eyes fixed on Jason's face, and Jason feels the intense need to... show off? Perform? Definitely to do  _ something _ that would warrant Joey's attention. He bobs lower, dragging his lips down and trying not to gag, watching the way Joey tips his head back, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Joey can't moan, Jason realizes, the same way that he can't laugh. Instead, he has to pick up on it from the expressions Joey wears and the way his body twists.

It feels strangely powerful to know that he can do that to him. That he can—with relatively little effort—make Joey twist and buck, rocking up against his mouth.

_ Good, _ Joey signs again, and Jason bobs down farther, swallowing hard around Joey's cock.

He's stopped when Joey's fingers tangle into his hair, lightly jerking him up, and he pops off with a wet sound.

_ Stop, _ Joey mouths, unable to sign it and clearly not focused enough to manage to properly use his subvocal microphone.

Jason stops, staring up at him. He wants to... to just go back at it. To keep going until Joey's happy. But Joey said  _ stop, _ so he stopped, even if the pause is enough to remind him that he's hard. Really hard. Hard enough it hurts, his erection pressing painfully against his jeans.

Joey doesn't even  _ do _ anything for a moment, breathing heavily as he stares down at him. His hand's still in Jason's hair, and Jason bites at his lip, more turned on than he's ever been in his life. He's just... there. Between Joey's legs. Staring up at him. He can still  _ taste _ Joey, even.

_ Don't want to finish like that, _ Joey signs when he's recovered enough.  _ Not when I haven't done anything for you. _

"You don't have to," Jason blurts. "I just want - if you feel good -"

_ This is a two way street, _ Joey signs, straightening up.  _ Lie down. _

Jason doesn't even know what Joey wants, exactly, but he's eager to follow the instruction anyway. In the end it doesn't matter, because Joey grabs his side, rolling him onto his back so that Joey's once again on top of him.

He is  _ not _ expecting Joey to abruptly flip around. It happens so quickly that Jason doesn't even register it: one minute Joey's face is above him, and the next Joey's turning around, and Joey's cock is suddenly there, right above his face.

He leans up, dragging his tongue across the head, and watches as Joey's hips twitch away. The position isn't bad, just  _ new, _ but he doesn't have time to dwell on it before he feels Joey's hands on  _ him. _

He's undoing his pants. He's going to take them off, he's going to-

Jason doesn't get a chance to properly stress about what Joey is or isn't seeing. His cock hits air, and then his cock hits  _ wet _ as Joey simply swallows him down in one smooth movement. He can't see what Joey's doing, but he can  _ feel _ it, and Jason lets out a choked groan that he tries desperately to stifle.

Joey is everything he's not, and right then the most important thing is  _ experienced. _ He has no doubt that Joey's done it before, and it's clear that Joey knows  _ exactly _ what he's doing as he drags his tongue down the side, covering every inch of Jason's cock in quick, precise movements.

Jason can't stop himself from rocking upwards into the hot wet heat of Joey's mouth, and he  _ knows _ he's not going to last. He makes an attempt to focus on the cock in front of him, but he doesn't have enough brain cells to get  _ and _ give a blowjob at the same time, and the best he can manage is a few distracted licks.

"Joey-" He chokes out, feeling his entire body tense. The feeling is too intense. He can't-

He doesn't even get to attempt a second warning. His entire body clenches, and he feels the sensation of suction increase as Joey swallows him down nearly to the base. It pushes him right over the edge, and he bites at his fist to keep from  _ screaming _ as he cums.

He sags onto the bed, feeling absolutely boneless, and when Joey laps at his cock—probably to clean up—his entire body shudders.

"Joey," he groans. "That -  _ god." _

He is definitely not up to talking. He's not even up to thinking. Reality seems to swim in and out of focus as Joey moves above him.

Right. He was supposed to be returning the favor. That was a  _ thing,  _ wasn't it?

But when he looks, Joey's jerking himself off, staring down at him as he finishes  _ himself. _ When he cums, it's almost completely silent, little more than a few breathy gasps as his hips rock forward, making a mess of the sheets.

Jason is spent. He shouldn't be so spent—for fuck's sake, he used to spend  _ hours _ training without issue—but he is.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "I shouldn't have-"

"You did just fine," Joey says in his ear, and Joey leans down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Just give yourself some time to recover."

He moves himself down, and Jason responds instinctively, pressing up against Joey and nuzzling in, eager for more skin contact.

He doesn't even notice when he falls asleep, dozing at Joey's side.


	70. Chapter 70

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even more sexual content.

Jason wakes pressed up against Joey's side. He's pretty sure he nuzzled in for warmth instinctively, but for the first few seconds he's just  _ confused. _ It takes a moment for it all to come rushing back, and when it does he lets out a small groan, rolling to bury his face in the pillow.

Something taps his shoulder, and Jason twists his head to squint at it. Joey. Joey's there, and he-

Jason reaches up to his ear and finds the earpiece missing.

_ Removed it, _ Joey signs, and Jason forces himself to pay attention.  _ Didn't want you sleeping with it in, and I wasn't sure how long you'd be out. _

Joey's still shirtless, which is a fact that Jason's having a very hard time  _ not _ noticing.

"How long was I...?"

_ Just a few minutes, _ Joey signs, reaching out to brush the hair out of Jason's eyes.  _ You have fun? _

Jason buries his face in the pillow instead of answering, and he feels Joey loosely drape an arm across his lower back.

"Sorry," Jason mumbles, turning his face to Joey again. "That was... that was amazing. I'm just a bit overwhelmed."

_ I noticed, _ Joey signs, reaching down to tap Jason's hand. He blinks at it, confused, and then realizes that what he took for sheets  _ isn't. _ Someone—Joey—has neatly wrapped his hand in bandages.

"Wha-?"

Oh fuck. Jason vaguely  _ (very _ vaguely) remembers biting at his hand to keep himself from waking the whole house with his shout, and staring down at it...

"How bad?" He asks, glancing to Joey.

_ Bit of blood, _ Joey signs.  _ Not too bad. Just very obvious that it's a bite mark. _

Jason lets out a groan of despair. He lives in a house with the  _ world's greatest detective, _ and there's no way a  _ human bite mark  _ isn't going to raise eyebrows.

So much for keeping it quiet.

_ If you want to stay, _ Joey signs.  _ I won't object. _

"No, I-" Jason blurts, face going even redder. "I need to shower." He feels sticky and, more than just that, very  _ aware _ of his own stickiness.

Plus, he doubts he'll get any sleep with Joey beside him.

Joey leans over, pressing a kiss to his lips, but he doesn't linger before pulling back, giving Jason his space.

_ I had fun, _ he signs, and Jason returns the gesture, leaning over to kiss him lightly before rolling out of bed.

He just has to make it back to his room without anyone noticing. He makes sure he's all tucked away, adjusts his shirt, and then heads for the door. Cracking it open, he peeks out to make sure the hallway's clear, and then makes a mad dash for his room. He makes it inside without seeing anyone, and once he's inside he presses his back to the door, sinking down as he lets his heart stop racing.

Joey. Him and Joey.

Him and Joey messing around.

He feels like his brain is frying, so he ducks into the bathroom, peeling off his clothes and climbing into the water. That slaps his brain back to reality at least  _ somewhat, _ only then his brain starts thinking about everything that happened...

In any other circumstance, he'd have switched the water to cold and been done with it that way. Instead, he leaves the water temperature where it is, and for the first time in memory, Jason lets himself actually enjoy himself. He doesn't look down—he's definitely not there yet—but it's not like he  _ doesn't _ know where his own dick is. He can find it. He knows what to do, even if he hasn't actually jerked himself off in  _ literal years. _ Even if he's always refused to let himself.

He doesn't see a reason to refuse himself right then. He presses his forehead against the cool tile of his shower, squeezes his eyes shut, and thinks about Joey as he jerks himself off.

It takes almost no time at all, and when he cums for the second time that day, he does so with Joey's names on his lips.

It feels good. Not just because it literally  _ feels _ good, but because he managed the whole thing without feeling bad at all. Without looking at himself or second guessing or  _ anything. _

Jason takes a deep breath and heads out of the shower. It feels like actual  _ progress _ as he towels off, pulling on clothes before peeling the bandages off and wincing at the sight of his hand. The injury isn't  _ bad, _ but there's also no disguising it. He's going to need to come up with a story before anyone else sees it.

He weighs his options and decides it's probably better to leave it for the morning, crawling into bed and falling asleep in record time.

It's the morning that poses more issues than Jason's comfortable with. When he's showered and dressed, he's presented with the unfortunate task of coming up with some sort of plan to disguise his hand. If he comes out with it bandaged, it's going to look suspicious, so he's going to just have to feign cutting himself, cover it with his hand, and then wrap it up before anyone inspects it.

He heads to the kitchen, keeping his hand neatly out of sight, and goes right on over to help with food prep. 

"Morning Al," he says automatically. There's bacon, which seems like a good place to have an accident, but he doesn't even get a  _ chance _ before Al is onto him.

"I would ask you not to prepare any food with an open wound," Alfred says pointedly, and Jason freezes.

Fuck.

"I will also ask that you not attempt to do anything stupid such as injurying yourself in attempt to hide your current injury."

Double fuck.

"Come here," Alfred says, and Jason's about to say  _ no, _ but Alfred's tone of voice throws him off before he really can. He sounds... sad. Upset. When Jason turns, he finds Alfred's expression pinched with worry and feels immediately guilty for whatever he did to cause it.

"You're alright?" Alfred asks, and Jason winces.

Oh no. Alfred's expecting the worst, isn't he?

"I'm fine," Jason says. "It was just an accident. It's not a big deal." He doesn't say  _ I've had worse _ because Alfred _ really _ doesn't need that reminder.

"I had hoped he would be-"

"Al, no," Jason blurts. It's clear Alfred knows  _ way _ more than he should, which doesn't exactly give him much hope that anyone  _ else _ in the house is still oblivious. "This was me being an idiot."

"You shouldn't-"

"No, really," Jason says, holding up his hand. "I bit myself. Because I'm an idiot."

Alfred looks down at his hand for a moment, and then up at his face. He's frowning, but it's a  _ very _ different kind of frown.

"...I suppose I should be happy you aren't going the way of Master Dick..."

Alfred bustles away to retrieve the first aid kit, carefully bandaging Jason's hand before anyone else can see it.

"It's a shame you injured yourself with that knife," Alfred says. "I shouldn't have startled you as I did."

"Thanks Al," Jason says quietly. "Pretty sure they'll all know by now."

"Most likely," Alfred says bluntly. "It was all but inevitable when you made the dreadful mistake of living in the same house as a man termed by many to be the  _ world's greatest detective. _ Even so, we can still pretend... and I would hope your brother is  _ not _ aware, so the pretense is worthwhile for him alone."

"We can only hope," Jason says with a groan.


	71. Chapter 71

Jason supposes that it's probably good he prepared himself for the fact that absolutely  _ everyone _ was going to know. It makes it less cringeworthy when Slade gives him a  _ look _ and then pointedly doesn't comment. Bruce is a bit less subtle, asking him if he had a good evening and squinting at the injury on his hand.

He, unlike Alfred, takes the offered  _ it's nothing _ without protest.

The only  _ real _ mercy is that Damian seems completely oblivious. Probably for the better, because if he showed any sign of knowing Jason lied to him the night before, Jason's not sure how he'd survive.

Wintergreen announces he's going to take Cassandra shopping over breakfast, and Jason's not the only one with concerns.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Bruce asks, glancing to Cassandra. "There will be a lot of people..."

"She survived having the entire Kent family over," Wintergreen points out. "She'll do just fine."

"No offense, but I'll tag along," Slade says. "Cassandra's still under our care, and the last thing I want is for her caseworker to show up at the house and find out we've let her go off with someone they're still investigating."

"A fair enough point," Wintergreen says. "We'll be happy to have you, won't we?"

He turns to Cassandra, who nods without actually looking up from her food.

Jason opts to make good on his cover story before Damian finds out, settling in down in the cave to write his letters. He writes the one to Rose first, simply because it's simple: more than anything, it's just a  _ hey do you want to write letters? _ since he has absolutely no idea if she's even interested.

He spends more time with Thomas's. It feels strange to be writing him a letter at all when they're planning to visit regularly, but considering how starved for outside contact he must be, Jason makes an effort. In the end, he writes a bit about the books they sent. It feels like a safe subject (not likely to irritate the guards at Blackgate), and it's also something he doubts he'll bring up with Bruce around. The last thing he wants is to burn the time they have with Thomas chatting about books, so consigning it to a letter seems like a nice compromise.

Bane, though? That's a lot harder.

For one thing, he has to keep things  _ discrete. _ He can't just call him  _ Bane, _ he has to be  _ B. _ He has to make everything roundabout to avoid anyone reading it from really understanding what the hell he's talking about.

He keeps it fairly general. He says that things are going well for him, and for the friend Bane met when they last visited. He thanks him for the offer he made in his last letter, but says they have no plans to visit Santa Prisca in the near future. He goes on a bit about the souvenirs he purchased, casually slotting in a mention of his family friend's pregnancy and mentioning that he hopes things go well for them. Bane's smart enough to figure out what he means, and he wraps up by mentioning that it was good to hear from him, and that he hopes they stay in touch.

He drops all three in the mailbox before lunch, heading to the kitchen to help set the table.

Michael drops by early in the afternoon to get Jason's signature, and the work he brings occupies the next few hours. He almost  _ desperately _ wants to go back to work, but Michael has clear reservations.

"It's hard enough as it is," Michael says. "If you come along it's only going to get worse. Get your family out more, and  _ then _ we can talk about you taking up your position in the company again."

Jason grumbles, but doesn't object. When he brings it up with Bruce later that afternoon, Bruce ponders it for a moment before offering a shrug.

"It isn't a bad idea," Bruce says. "We've been fairly closed off, and we've largely missed the fallout. Once Cassandra's moved out, I think we should probably make some public appearances so people don't think we're dead."

He doesn't get a chance to talk to Joey privately until after dinner, and even dinner itself is a small adventure of its own.

"You wouldn't  _ believe _ who we ran into," Slade says, clearly in a great mood.

"I could guess, but I'd probably be wrong," Jason says. "Who?"

"Let me guess," Damian says. "Was it Selina Kyle?"

"Doubtful," Bruce says. "As far as I'm aware, she's well out of Gotham. Last I heard she was in Europe."

"Hopefully bothering one of their vigilantes," Slade grumbles. "No, I spotted Lawton and his daughter."

The last time Jason saw Deadshot was more than a decade ago, but he knows that Slade called him in to assist during the Night of the Owls. In particular, Jason knows he attended the  _ big vigilante dinner _ which he missed by virtue of being in the hospital.

"I thought he left Gotham," Bruce says, looking genuinely surprised.

"Apparently his mother's part of Gotham's  _ old money _ and lives on the far side of the city. She had a fall and couldn't keep up the house, so he moved back a few months ago."

Bruce grunts, no doubt annoyed he wasn't aware.

"We're on good terms with him, right?" Jason asks, wanting to be sure.

"Friendly enough," Wintergreen says. "I'm still in touch with his broker. We're old friends."

"How's his daughter?" Bruce asks.

"Grown up," Slade points out. "About to enter Gotham University."

"It's good to hear they're doing well," Bruce adds, and the conversation moves on.

Cassandra has a whole wardrobe's worth of clothes ready for her, and Wintergreen mentions having ordered more furniture. When he mentions having to build it, Slade volunteers to assist without hesitation, and everyone else piles in moments later to join in.

"Can't take everyone," Wintergreen says. "House isn't large enough for that."

"I veto Bruce coming," Slade says. "He's still healing."

"We don't even know when this will be," Bruce points out. "You might have plans that day anyway, so we'll have to play it by ear."

_ Where do you live, anyway? _ Joey signs.

"Just outside Baltimore," Wintergreen says. "A nice little place. Lots of land. Very private."

Damian asks a barrage of questions about the house, it's security, and the available amenities before finally seeming satisfied, and Slade snorts in amusement at the scene. Jason, on the other hand, drops his voice, glancing over to Cassandra and speaking to her while the table's focus is elsewhere, hoping she'll be more willing to respond that way.

"What about you, Cassandra? Excited to see it?"

She doesn't look up from her food, but she does nod.

It isn't until after dinner that he gets a chance to talk to Joey in anything even remotely approaching privacy. He isn't planning it, but when he spots Joey looking out the back window over the grounds he slides right on over, reaching down to take Joey's hand in his own.

"Thanks for... everything," Jason says quietly. "I probably don't say that enough."

"You don't have to thank me, you know," Joey says through the earpiece. "It's not as if this is a one way thing."

"You're just - you know what you're doing, and you don't, so it's... uneven."

Joey smiles at him and then leans over, kissing his cheek before breaking Jason's hold on his hand.

_ You're a sweetheart, _ he signs,  _ but you really don't have to stress over it. I was going to ask if you were willing to model again, though? _

"Of course," Jason says automatically. As far as he knows he doesn't have any plans for the next few days, so it's not as if he's too busy. "Just the same...?"

_ Wanted to see if you'd wear the batsuit, _ Joey signs.  _ If I'm going to have Batman on hand, I might as well make use of it. _

It won't be as comfortable, but he can certainly manage that.

"I still get to read?" He asks, and Joey nods.

_ I can manage a slightly mobile subject. _

It feels like a relief that nothing's really changed. It wasn't even a worry beforehand, but afterwords it was hard not to think about what it might mean that they'd messed around. Like some invisible line had been crossed and things wouldn't ever go back to how they were.

But it isn't like that. His relationship with Joey feels the same as it did before. Comfortable. Slowly expanding.

"I wrote to Rose," Jason blurts, and Joey's eyebrows go up in clear surprise.

_ Didn't think you'd want to stay in touch with her. _

"It wasn't her fault. And I thought she might... like more people to write to. More than just you."

As far as Jason's aware, Joey's the only person Rose has contact with.

"I didn't... I just realized I didn't even ask you how that went. Your visit, I mean," Jason adds, feeling a pang of guilt. He'd been too caught up with Thomas to ask.

_ I'm not sure I'd have told you if you asked, _ Joey signs. He looks reluctant, even right then, to actually say.  _ She didn't want to see me. _

Jason startles at that.

"What?" He says. "You just - did you just go back to the car?"

The whole time he assumed that Joey's visit went well. That there was nothing to talk about because nothing particularly interesting happened. Finding out that there was nothing to talk about because  _ nothing happened _ feels like a kick to the gut.

_ She's not my Rose, _ Joey signs, dodging the question (which makes it a clear  _ yes) _ .  _ She doesn't know me. So she turned me down. _

His heart breaks for Joey all over again, and he realizes Joey isn't meeting his eyes.

"You should have told me," he says quietly. "We could have..." Jason can't finish the sentence, trailing off. There's no  _ could have. _ Once Rose said no, that was it. She ignored his letters when he first reached out. She was, at best, short with Joey in Santa Prisca.

And now she's turned him away. She doesn't want the relationship he's offering. She wants, as far as Jason can tell, nothing to do with them.

Even worse, Jason can't really blame her for it.

"I'm sorry," Jason says quietly. Joey looks  _ tired, _ and it's painfully clear he doesn't want to talk about it. Even so, Jason can imagine. He's alone. He has the people he's just met and no one else. A twice a month video from his sister and Wintergreen doesn't avoid the fact that he's never going to even be in the same room as them again.

Jason pulls him into a hug, and Joey buries his face against his shoulder. As good as things have been, the possibility weighs on Jason: does Joey regret coming?

He can't bring himself to ask.

Instead he pulls Joey down to sit on the ledge in front of the window, pulling him closer for support. Joey doesn't fight it, but when Jason looks there are tears in the corners of his eyes.

Joey is just so,  _ so _ alone.


	72. Chapter 72

Jason doesn't go straight to bed that night. Instead, he lets himself dwell on the problem in front of him: the issue of Joey's loneliness. It's not as if he can figure out a way for his Rose to visit him (that might be a bit beyond him), but Jason's not even convinced that would help anyway.

The moment that door opens—the moment Rose can come visit—that means all of Joey's problems from his old world become issues once again.

All he can do is try and help him adjust to the new situation and hope that it helps.

He settles back in bed, phone in hand, and pulls up the group chat. He's been keeping them in the loop, but there's no denying he hasn't been spending as much time actually  _ chatting _ as he did before.

**Jason: ** Still not dead.

There's a minute or so of silence before his phone pings, and he grabs the phone to find the group chat coming alive again.

**Harper:** Debatable   
**Cullen: ** How are things are the house?   
**Jason: ** Slowing down, thankfully. Anyone have any plans the next few days? Looking to get out of the house.   
**Amina: ** Sorry, I'm out of state visiting family.   
**Harper: ** Roller derby?

Jason lets out a groan, sinking his head into the pillow. He is  _ not _ taking Joey out for roller derby. Especially not because Harper gets  _ super _ competitive about it.

**Jason: ** Going to have to pass on that one. Anything less contact-based?   
**Amina: ** Minigolf?

Jason's not entirely ruling that out, at least.

**Cullen: ** Uh, I have a thing tomorrow evening you might be interested in?   
**Jason: ** Hit me.   
**Cullen: ** I got invited by a friend to beta test an escape room in Gotham. I thought it might be a bit below your skill level.

It almost definitely  _ is, _ but that doesn't mean it can't be fun.

**Jason: ** Can Joey tag along? I think he'd have fun trying.

Maybe he should have started with that.

**Cullen: ** Sure. I'm scheduled around seven tomorrow if that works?   
**Jason: ** Deal. I'll bring you some of Alfred's treats.   
**Cullen: ** I think I'm getting the better side of this deal.

Jason laughs and says his goodnights, dropping his phone onto the charging dock before burrowing into the bed.

He sleeps the night through without issue, waking before his alarm and rising for the day.

He doesn't leave Joey in suspense, talking to him before they even have breakfast, and Joey looks like he's right back to his old self as Jason waves him over.

Jason's pretty sure that at least  _ some _ of it is a front.

"I was talking with Cullen," Jason says, "and he mentioned he got invited to beta test an escape room. Any interest?"

_ I've never done one before, _ Joey signs, and Jason can imagine why.  _ But I'm interested. _

"Not sure how much help I'll be," Jason says. "But it's kind of fun to watch either way."

_ Are we still going to have time for painting? _ Joey asks, raising an eyebrow, and Jason nods immediately.

"Left the whole day clear," he says. "The thing with Cullen isn't even until tonight. We can start after breakfast if you want?"

_ Sure, _ Joey signs. Jason thinks he's about to say something else, but in the end Joey just looks him over and smiles before heading to the kitchen.

Damian spends breakfast begging Slade to train with him until Slade relents, and to the surprise of almost everyone, Cassandra actually seems interested. She mostly makes it known by looking up, watching the two of them talk, so Jason intervenes.

"Did you want to watch them train?" Jason asks, and she nods, popping a bit of food into her mouth.

Bruce makes a grunt that Jason knows means  _ I'm not sure about this, _ but he puts it aside. Slade can handle it. More importantly, he doesn't think Cassandra's  _ actually _ that dangerous. She hurt Slade, sure, but that was while being goaded against someone she knew would get back up.

She is, more than anything else,  _ calculated. _ It's all too easy to shrug her off as being slow for her age considering her difficulties communicating, but it's also become increasingly clear to Jason that she's  _ not _ slow. She's behind her peers because she was held back, not through any fault of her own, and it's clear she has a particularly tactical mind, no doubt thanks to her father's  _ training. _

It makes him feel a little bit sick just thinking about it. Too similar for his tastes.

"What about you, Bruce?" Jason asks. "Plans for the day?"

"I think I'll watch the practice," he says. "I'm effectively free today for once."

That doesn't happen often, and Jason can imagine why he might want to spend a bit more time with Damian and Slade.

"You?" Bruce asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Joey wanted to paint, so I'm going to read in the library," he says. "Then we're going to do an escape room with Cullen."

Bruce makes a face at that.

"Please tell me-"

"I'm going to let them do the work," Jason says. "I'll only help if they get stuck. I just want to get a feel for it. They're good for practicing critical thinking, you know."

"They're good for drawing attention," Bruce counters. "But I trust you'll be safe. You'll be with us for dinner?"

_ And lunch, _ Joey confirms.

Bruce and Slade keep their comments to themselves when Jason goes down to snag the batsuit before heading upstairs, but Damian doesn't, demanding to know what he's doing and forcing Jason to explain the idea of  _ sitting for a painting. _

"When's he going to paint me?" Damian demands to know, and Jason's happy Joey's already setting up in the library.

"When you can sit still for more than six hours at a time without going crazy."

"I can," Damian insists. "I just don't want to."

"Exactly. Now get back to your training."

He grabs the cowl—the last piece of the costume—and heads up to the library.

He's expecting something different, but doesn't really get it. Joey acts much the same way he did before, professional and clearly experienced in the whole process. He looks over the suit for a little while before getting Jason to sit on a chair, his position largely neutral.

_ I'll ask you to shift a bit later, but this is fine for now,  _ Joey signs.

Reading a novel in the batsuit is a surreal experience, and he finds it harder to zone out and get into the proper mental space to get lost in the book. His instincts keep telling him to be hyper-vigilant, but paying attention doesn't do anything other than make the time drag on longer.

Alfred brings them lunch in the library (a nice surprise, and one that Alfred insists will  _ not _ become a regular occurrence), and they eat before getting back to it.

_ Could you tilt your head up?  _ Joey signs, and Jason does so, going still when Joey presses a finger under his chin, tilting his head up to stare at the wall.

_ Feel free to read like that, I just need your head position,  _ Joey adds, making a point to sign in Jason's line of sight.

Reading with the book held high above his head is  _ weird, _ no two ways about it.

But the biggest surprise comes when Joey taps the easel to get his attention and calls an end to the day, only to have Joey cover up the painting before he can take a look.

_ I'm not done, _ Joey objects.  _ Maybe we could finish tomorrow? _

"We can see if Cassandra wants to do some more work in here," Jason says. "Since I know Wintergreen's going to be gone."

_ Sounds like a good idea, _ Joey signs.  _ We should probably get ready for dinner. _

Jason showers down in the cave, peeling off the suit to find himself soaked with sweat. The suit simply doesn't hold up to  _ hours _ sitting in one position, and he hopes he can do without it next time... and also suspects he'll be wrong.

They don't quite finish dinner. They're about halfway done when Slade points out they're not going to make it, and then  _ Joey _ points out they can just fly, and after that it's hard not to get flustered at the idea of being flown around in Joey's arms. Even so, it's the only way they're going to make it in time, so Jason heads back to his room to fetch a thick hoodie to wear over his shirt. If nothing else, he tells himself, it means he's less likely to get recognized and cause a scene.

_ I'm starting to think you like me flying you places, _ Joey signs as they head outside. He has a bag with a sweater for joey to pull on over the ikon suit, but his pants will do just fine without them. They're not terribly obvious, and it's not as if anyone's going to be inspecting them anyway.

"Guilty," Jason admits. "It's... fun."

He pauses, and then lets himself shift position, resting his head against Joey's shoulder. Joey holding him that much tighter feels immensely satisfying, and Jason lets himself just enjoy the flight for what it is.


	73. Chapter 73

They meet Cullen just outside the building with a minute to spare, and he gawks blatantly at them as they drop out of the sky. Jason's given up on feeling self conscious about the fact that Joey seems to enjoy carrying him bridal style, but he's  _ definitely _ confused at Cullen's reaction.

"Oh wow," Cullen says. "Guess that went well?"

"What?" Jason asks. "Did we miss it?"

"Oh no no," Cullen says, waving his hands. "I wasn't talking about that."

_ I told him I was pursuing you, _ Joey signs once he's set Jason fully down, pulling his mask down and pulling on the sweater Jason passes him.

"What?" Jason blurts. "When?"

"Don't need to know sign to foollow  _ that _ conversation," Cullen mutters. "He told me when I asked him out. Said that he already had his eye on you."

The fact that  _ Cullen _ knew before he did is killing him.

"Does  _ everyone _ know?"

Cullen slowly pulls out his phone and Jason groans.

"Cullen - Cullen do not-"

_ Bing. _

Jason doesn't even check his phone. He knows what Cullen's said, and he groans, silencing his phone as he pulls his hood up.

"Let's do this thing. I don't want to have to read Amina and Harper freaking out over this."

When Cullen said that it was a beta test, Jason had definitely been expecting something more finished. Something very nearly ready to open. Instead, he finds a place with an unlit sign that's been covered over, the only sign that there's even anything inside being the light inside. Cullen takes them right in, and to Jason's relief the  _ lobby _ is at least mostly finished. There's still work to be done, but the room's purpose is clear enough. It's a waiting room, it has a few places to sit, there's a reception desk... simple enough stuff.

"Cullen!" A young woman behind the counter says, heading out from behind the desk. "Glad you could make it. You brought friends?"

She glances over at them and Joey waves, while Jason hangs back, eager to draw as little attention as possible.

"They're mostly watching," Cullen says. "I think Joey might help a bit, but I don't think he's done an escape room before...?" He glances back, and Joey shakes his head.

"Well, welcome to your first escape room!" She says. "I'm Liz, a friend of Cullens. I love doing escape rooms in Metropolis, and I felt like it was high time we had one here. Low start up costs in this part of town, and I'm hoping to get the kinks worked out before we open in a week or two.""

"How finished are you now?" Cullen asks.

"Seeeeventy-five?" She says. "We've got all the basics and mechanisms and everything. We're finalizing our logo—having to sort of deal with legal stuff to make sure we're not running into any trademark issues—but we've got most of the theming of the rooms in place."

"And?"

"Well, originally we were going to do an Alice in Wonderland one-" Jason winces at the very idea. "-but since the Mad Hatter exists, we scrapped it. We tried to avoid anything too heavily  _ crime related _ to keep from scaring people off, so we went with Sherlock Holmes, an ancient Egyptian Pyramid, and then we have a cupid-themed one for couples."

Jason can't think of anything particularly objectionable with any of those, so he settles in as she explains the rules. It's all simple enough. Don't break, push, or shove anything, they're not actually being locked in, and they need to find an ornate looking key.

"This is a beta test," Cullen says, and Jason finds himself sort of impressed by how professional Cullen's being. Normally he's a bit more excitable, but he's  _ clearly _ keeping it cool. "What sort of things are we looking for?"

"Difficulty, mostly," she says. "We're working on tuning them down so they're actually something people can finish in the hour they're given. Past three clues you won't be on the leaderboard, so I think most people will aim for that. You're practically a professional escape game runner, so we're hoping you'll be able to clear through this without needing many, and then we can work backwards and see what you needed extra clues on."

"Are you gunning for a job here?" Jason asks Cullen as they're herded into the starting room.

"Maybe," he says. "It would be better than the bookstore."

_ You seem like you know your stuff, _ Joey signs, and Jason interprets for him.

"Might be time to..." Jason starts, but he doesn't get a chance to say anything more before the door in front of them swings open automatically.

There's no question which room they've been put into, because the whole place is set up like a study. There's a wall full of books, a large desk, an armoire that Jason's pretty sure is locked, and a variety of small side tables and other oddities.

Jason mostly hangs back. This is Cullen's game and Joey's first experience, so he lets them do the fun bits. Joey digs through the desk drawers for clues, while Cullen rifles through the bookshelf. Every so often, Cullen calls out that he's found something, and Jason facilitates by collecting his offered clues to drop on the desk.

Jason doesn't have much to do until ten minutes in when Cullen throws his hands up, handing over a letter.

"See if you can get a three digit number out of there. There's three numbers mentioned—six one nine—but that's not right."

Jason grabs a seat and looks over the letter. It's... boring. Normal. Nothing particularly exciting in it. It's just someone—in theory one of Sherlock's friends—talking about their trip around Europe and all the places they've been. A few specific locations get mentioned, but for the most part it's just locations, and Jason catches himself chewing his lip.

There's something he's missing, and when he glances around the room he realizes what. There's a map on the wall. A map of Europe.

He grabs the letter, heading on over, and then taps each mentioned location bit by bit. It's not a bad clue, but it needs a bit more of a hint, and it takes him longer than he should just to figure out what it's supposed to be.

"Seven four one," Jason says. Cullen heads over, squinting at Jason's work, and then the realization dawns on him. He twists around, locating the camera in the corner of the room, and then waves. 

"If you put indicators or told people they could draw on this glass with a whiteboard markers I think it'd be a bit more clear," Cullen says. "Otherwise it just looks like another prop like the books."

Oh yeah, Cullen is  _ definitely  _ gunning for a job.

_ Jason, _ Joey signs, drawing his attention.  _ I'm supposed to be looking for people who are always above board. Ideas? _

"Oh, that one's easy," Jason says. "Chessmen are above board."

Joey quickly finds a chessboard hidden in one of the bookshelves and gets back to work.

One riddle points them to a specific shelf, and Joey discovers that pressing the back panel opens a hidden door, which then leads to a puzzle that involves pouring different beakers of fluid together to get a combination of numbers. The puzzles are  _ increasingly  _ difficult, requiring them to pool their resources more and more, and by the end Jason can't help but feel that they're almost obscene. They've got five minutes left and Cullen's fairly sure the safe they're looking at has the key they need.

"I am always around, but never seen. I am often avoided, but never outrun. I might find you at the end of the road or around the next corner... What am I?" Cullen reads. "Five letters."

Jason knows the answer. It pops right into his head, but with a few minutes left, he lets the others try.

_ Death, _ Joey signs, and then bends down to take the lock from Cullen to answer. Once he's entered the combination, the lock clicks open and Joey removes it, revealing the large, ornate key.

The door behind them opens and Liz leans in.

"Oh thank god," she says. "We've had three groups run this one and no one got more than halfway through. I was starting to worry it wasn't solvable."

"Was probably a bit highly tuned," Cullen says. "Are they all like this?"

"Oh they definitely are," she admits. "The couples one isn't quite done, but did you guys want to try the pyramid one?"

Cullen grins, and Jason  _ knows _ he's up to something.

"I bet Jay can solo it," he says, and Liz doesn't give him more than a glance.

"No one's cleared that one either," she says. "And we've run eight groups through. We haven't even had a chance to adjust since the last group. I'm not sure it's solvable."

"He can do it," Cullen says with a grin. "Bet you a job interview."

Joey facepalms and Jason rolls his eyes.

"Deal," Liz says. "I'll be  _ genuinely _ impressed if he manages to get through. It's been hell trying to get our gamemaster to tone it down."

"I'm counting on you," Cullen says, slapping Jason on the back.

"Thanks," Jason mutters, letting himself get ushered into the other room. The theming is more intricate, but running it completely solo is a  _ much _ different sort of experience. On one hand, he doesn't have anyone around to  _ check his work. _ On the other, he also doesn't have to hold back. It's  _ supposed _ to be hard, and Cullen's job interview is on the line.

Although Jason suspects Cullen's getting that interview either way.

So Jason goes absolutely fill tilt at the room. He grabs every object, checking the back and bottoms of everything he can lift, and rapidly gathers a stack of clues that he drops on the dias in the center of the room. Only once he's checked everything over does he settle down beside it, starting to work through each.

Jason has a suspicion, and as he works through every successive puzzle that suspicion gets stronger. Some of the puzzles are familiar (it's hard to make  _ truly _ unique puzzles in the age of the internet), but mostly it's the  _ manner _ of the puzzles. The way they're phrased. How they're all set up.

By the time he grabs the key—thirty five minutes in—Jason's pretty damned sure he knows who Liz's pain in the ass gamemaster is.

Because, really, who  _ else _ could it be?

"Wow," Liz says when he steps out of the room. "That - you're done? Already?"

It's clear she wasn't even watching, apparently too busy discussing things with Cullen and having already written his solo attempt off as a loss. Jason hefts the key, and Liz's eyes flick over him, actually  _ looking _ at him for the first time.

"Hold on, you're-"

"Jason Wilson-Wayne," Jason finishes, distracted by Joey's happy grin beside her. "Nice to meet you."

"Oh wow," she says. "That explains how you just...  _ blew _ through that. Wait till I tell our designer."

"Don't," Jason says. "Is he here?"

She looks momentarily confused, but her glance back over her shoulder confirms to Jason that he's  _ definitely _ in the third room.

"He was working on the couples room, yeah."

"Cool," he says. "Just tell him my time."

She looks baffled by the entire thing, but that doesn't stop her from heading over and ducking into the third room.

There's a moment of silence and then, even through the closed door, Jason can hear someone yell something that sounds a lot like  _ He WHAT?!  _ at the top of their lungs.

Five seconds later, The Riddler bursts into the room.

Maybe calling him  _ The Riddler _ isn't quite being charitable enough, because Edward looks a hell of a lot differently then he did the last time Jason saw him. If Jason wasn't already expecting him, he's pretty sure he could have walked right by him on the street without recognizing him. His hair's dyed black and nicely combed. He's wearing a sweater, and his glasses are back. He's not wearing anything approaching a costume, and he slams to a stop when he sees Jason.

"Oh," he says. "Well, that certainly makes me feel better about the difficulty level of my challenges."

"Yoooooou two know each other?" Liz asks, trailing Edward back into the room as she squints between the two of them.

"We've met before, yeah," Jason says.

_ Is that the Riddler?  _ Joey signs, and for once Jason's happy that sign language isn't commonplace.

"It is," Edward says, establishing that he most certainly  _ does. _ "But I no longer go by that name, for obvious reasons."

Cullen might not know sign language, but Jason's pretty sure he's wised up to what's going on, because he runs interference.

"So about that interview," he says. "You want to take your conversation outside, Jay?"

"Sure," he says, casual as can be as he waves for Joey to follow. Edward  _ hmphs _ as he follows them, and when he's outside he folds his arms over his chest.

"I am here completely legally," he says. "Nor have I placed any deathtraps anywhere."

"I'd sure as hell hope not," Jason says with a snort. "You're not in trouble, Nygma."

"Nashton."

"You changed your name?"

"Reverted it," Edward says.  _ "Nygma _ has certain connotations I'd prefer to avoid. It also comes up with my prior persona if you so much as google search it. It makes finding a job exceptionally difficult."

"Can't imagine why," Jason says. Joey's definitely watching the encounter, but he's staying out of it, even though both of them can understand him.

Or maybe  _ because  _ both of them can understand him.

"As I said, I am here operating completely legally. After suffering through almost a decade of mundane jobs, this position is-"

"Pretty much your dream job. You're doing what you enjoy without having to threaten anyone."

Edward squints at him.

"...Yes."

"Cool," Jason says, waving him off.

"...That's it?" Edward asks, looking even  _ more _ confused.

"You've literally never killed anyone in your life," Jason says. "It also pretty clear you went—excuse my language—a little bit nuts during your Riddler years. You look like you've cleaned yourself up and I'm not going to dangle that over your head."

"And you... aren't going to tell your father?" Edward asks, squinting so hard his eyes are practically closed.

"I would be  _ genuinely _ shocked if he didn't already know where you are and what you were doing. Changing your name back isn't going to make him lose track of you, and if you  _ have _ been keeping things completely legal, there's a paper trail... just not one anyone would notice."

He's never asked, but it would be  _ extremely _ out of character for Bruce to not know that the Riddler was still in Gotham doing who the hell knows what. The same way he knows that Catwoman is currently running around Europe or knew that Lawton had left Gotham, he's sure he knows that much about Riddler.

"Oh," Edward says. "...Did you at least find the puzzle rooms challenging?"

_ The one I tried was pretty fun, _ Joey signs.  _ I'm not exactly a puzzle master though. _

"Need to work on your difficulty levels," Jason says. "Consider that challenge enough."

"Hmmmm," Edward says, resting his chin on his knuckles as he ponders. "A worthy task, when you put it that way..."

Jason wonders if he made a mistake enticing Edward like that, because he's clearly  _ deep _ in thought.

"Why don't we go snag Cullen," Jason says, fairly sure he's totally lost him. Edward  _ hmmms _ loudly and Jason peeks back inside, drawing Cullen's attention as Edwards head backs inside, muttering to himself under his breath.

"Ready to go?" Jason asks, and Cullen startles, turning towards him and grinning widely.

"Yep," he says. "Thanks Liz, we had a ton of fun!"

Cullen hooks his arm with Jason's, and hooks his other with Joey on the other side as they head outside. He's practically  _ bouncing  _ with excitement, which pretty much spoils his big reveal.

_ So? _ Joey asks, and his body language makes it clear what he's asking.

"Need to go in and sign some paperwork, but Liz says she has room on her staff for one more. Just part time until we open, buuuuuuut..."

"You got the job," Jason spoils.

"I got the job!" Cullen says.

"Of course you got the job," Jason says. "You've been squandering your nerdy talents shelving books for years."

_ Congratulations, _ Joey signs, and when Cullen looks to Jason he rolls his eyes.

"You can figure that one out, dude."

"I can," Cullen admits with a grin. "Thanks. I think having you guys with me helped my case. Made me look more... responsible and all that."

Joey signs, and Jason interprets for him.

"Joey says it was fun, and I agree," he says. "We'll have to come by and try one of the other rooms when you're running them."

Cullen pauses for a moment, looking a bit more serious, and wrings his hands together.

"Thanks," he says. "Really. It means a lot to me that you guys were willing to come out for this."

_ What are friends for?  _ Joey signs, and Jason grins as he relays it. It makes him feel happy that Joey considers Cullen a friend, because it means he's spread out a little bit and that is, in the end, a  _ good  _ thing.

"We're going to take off," Jason says. "You can get home?"

"I've got a car, you know," Cullen says. "I'll see you around."

It feels  _ good _ when Joey hands over his sweater, scoops him up, and takes off into the air with Jason in his arms.

Like things are normal.


	74. Chapter 74

Bruce is waiting up for them when they get back, and even if they were in no actual danger, Bruce looks relieved anyway when they head into the kitchen to grab snacks. He's settled in at the table, reading over some papers, and he glances up as they enter.

"Have fun?"

_ Yep, _ Joey signs.  _ We got Cullen a job. _

"That's good to hear," Bruce says automatically. "Did you finish?"

"Barely," Jason says.

_ Cullen and I barely finished, _ Joey corrects.  _ Jason soloed another room. _

"Wanna guess who was running the place?" Jason asks, eager to not talk about how good or bad anyone did.

Bruce snorts.

"Let me guess," he says, "Edward Nashton?"

"Called it," Jason says. "Told you he'd know."

_ You did, _ Joey signs.  _ He didn't seem to be up to anything. _

"Forgive me if I still keep tabs on him after this," Bruce says. "It's the same reason I keep track of the spread of Ivy's garden. I would rather look and find nothing than be caught off guard."

"I can't really object to that," Jason admits, "but I was thinking we could go to their grand opening."

Bruce pauses, his eyes flicking up to Jason's face.

"You just went," he points out, and Jason can sense the hesitation in his voice.

"I meant  _ all _ of us," Jason says. "Make it a family thing."

"An escape room," Bruce says pointedly. "You want a Wayne family outing to an escape room."

"An escape room on opening night," Jason adds.

_ To support Cullen! _ Joey signs excitedly.  _ It would be great marketing. Their biggest hurdle they'll face is that people are wary of things like this in Gotham, but if both Batmen attend the opening that would help ease people's minds. _

Bruce  _ hmmms _ loudly, clearly weighing his options.

"...Alright," he finally says. "Assuming it's not within the next week."

"More like a week or two."

There's another  _ hmmm. _

"I think it's a good idea," Jason says, trying to be as clear as possible. "Helping a local business. Helping a friend. Keeping everyone from panicking because they think the Riddler's running it."

"The Riddler  _ is _ running it."

"Edward Nashton is running it," Jason counters. "The Riddler's retired."

"Fine," Bruce says with a wave. "I'll pitch it to Slade and see if he's interested."

"Good, I'll tell Cullen that we're attending," Jason says with a grin. He suspects—but can't confirm—that Cullen was hoping for something like this, but also is confident Cullen would never actually  _ ask. _ He wouldn't want to risk asking for too much and damaging their friendship.

Even if Jason's told him like six million times that it's  _ fine. _ After all, if Cullen only befriended him to get access to the Wayne fortune, he's doing a  _ terrible _ job of it.

He makes a point of letting Cullen know before he falls asleep that night, and when he does manage to get some shuteye, it's thinking of how excited Cullen was when he got the job.

It's a nice thought, and one that lets him sleep soundly.

They see Wintergreen off the following morning. It's only a day trip—his house isn't  _ that _ far away, and he swears he'll be back before bed—but it feels like the clear start to an end that he doesn't like all that much. Wintergreen's going to leave, and it's going to happen sooner rather than later.

Jason has to admit he's gotten used to his presence.

It's also clear that Cassandra has as well, because while she's been doing better, she retreats to her ledge when Wintergreen's gone. Jason makes an attempt to coax her down, clearing his throat to draw her attention

"I know Wintergreen isn't around," he says, "but did you want to join me and Joey in the library? We've got more videos." She's not budging, so Jason lays it on thick. "...And I know Wintergreen would probably love to be able to talk to you."

It works, and Cassandra cautiously drops down from her perch to go to the library.

Joey's already there, in the midst of setting up, but when Jason steps in he realizes what it is he forgot.

"Oh right," he says. 'The suit-"

_ You don't need the whole thing, _ Joey signs.  _ Can you just grab your boots and gloves? _

Jason doesn't correct them that they're  _ gauntlets _ (and boy can he hear Bruce's voice correcting him way back when he was a kid), instead setting up Cassandra with her videos before he goes to get the pieces Joey wanted.

"Really?" He asks as he returns to the library. "Just these?" It feels  _ really _ weird leaving the rest behind, and even weirder pulling them on without the rest of the suit. He feels lopsided. Bulky.

_ I already did most of it, _ Joey signs.  _ I want to touch up the gloves and then it's just the feet. _

"Anything you want me to... uh, do with them?"

_ Think you can last an hour without a book? _

"I can manage."

Joey arranges his arms, one hand resting on top of the other. He doesn't have a book, which is unfortunate, but Jason shifts his focus to Cassandra's videos, watching over her shoulder as the video plays out.

It's so easy to zone out, letting Joey work. There's something entrancing about the soft sound of brush strokes on canvas, and Jason feels like he could easily fall asleep to the sounds of Joey painting.

He holds it together for the hours until lunch, at which point they break for food. Jason leaves the gloves and boots in the library at Alfred's insistence, but by the time they get back after, Joey has good news for him.

_ You don't need the gloves, _ Joey signs.  _ But I do need you to sit in a way that your feet dangle. _

Jason ends up stacking chairs to sit atop so that his feet can dangle in the boots, and rather than a book he opts to watch Cassandra's program with her, signing along. He's more awake, more  _ aware, _ and he makes smalltalk with Cassandra as they watch.

She signs along with each demonstrated sign, and Jason provides extra context as they go.

"Your hand should be a bit higher," he says. "Closer to the chin."

Cassandra adjusts wordlessly, and Joey taps the easel, drawing Jason's attention.

_ I'm done needing a model,  _ Joey signs.

"Can I see?"

_ Not until I'm done, _ Joey signs immediately.  _ I still have things to finish, but I don't need a model anymore. _

"You were finished the other one way faster," Jason points out.

_ That was a warm-up. This is a real piece. They take longer. _

"Hmmmm," Jason mumbles. "Well, I'm excited to see it. You want to finish the video, Cass?"

Cassandra nods, and Jason moves over to settle in beside her. It's a nice, quiet sort of afternoon, helping Cassandra memorize the signs as Joey works on his painting.   
  
It feels normal, even if it's anything but.

Joey doesn't let him see the painting. He insists he wants to look at it with fresh eyes before he declares it finished, and goes to hide it away in his room as Jason finishes watching the video with Cassandra.

He waits until it's done before he speaks, glancing over at her awkwardly.

"I know you haven't been here long, but I don't want to feel like you're... getting kicked out, or anything like that. I know you like Wintergreen, but if you want to come back—for any reason at all—you just need to call, alright? I'll drop what I'm doing and come get you."

He wants her to know that. He wants to make  _ sure _ she knows that. He doesn't think Wintergreen's going to be a bad guardian or anything, but he thinks it's important that Cass knows she can come back at any time for any reason. The door's always open.

To his immense surprise, she doesn't just nod. Instead, she clearly tries to make use of her lessons.

_ OK, _ she signs, and Jason grins, signing as he speaks.

"Just as long as you know," he says. "Want to go see if Alfred needs help with dinner?"

She does. Cassandra has absolutely no culinary skills, but Alfred's happy to tutor her in the basics of food preparation, calling it an  _ essential life skill. _ Jason doesn't point out that Bruce has managed to go his whole life without figuring out anything more complicated than a sandwich.

Wintergreen gets home around seven, so they push dinner back to wait for him. He's in a good mood (the repairs went well), and he clearly seems eager to get back to it.

"It was good to be home," he says over food. "Hopefully it was a good day for everyone?"

Damian tells Wintergreen all about the game he played with Jon and his brothers, and Jason can't help but wonder if Damian's spending more time at the Kent house then he is at home. Joey  _ again _ doesn't mention the painting, and it's slowly killing Jason because he is  _ dying _ to see the finished bit.

He can't help but feel wary at Joey's secrecy, but he tells himself that there's a good reason.

Or more realistically, he's just  _ really _ not used to the  _ artistic process. _


	75. Chapter 75

Jason can't help but feel frustrated when Diana arrives midway through breakfast. He knows what it means.

It means it's time for Cassandra and Wintergreen to go.

"Already?" Bruce asks when she joins them in the kitchen. "I thought we had more time."

"Sooner is better when it comes to getting someone settled in, Bruce," Diana says, allowing herself to be lured into joining them for breakfast by Alfred.

"They really got everything in order that quickly?" Slade asks.

"You might very well be the most high profile family in America right now," Diana points out. "The only thing they wanted for Wintergreen here is three character witnesses. That would be..."

She points to Slade, Bruce, and then herself.

"Uh," Jason says, "no offense, but you barely know him. Is 'I hear Bruce says he's a swell guy' really enough?"

Diana quirks a smile at him, her hand going down to her hip. She's in civilian clothes, but Jason knows she doesn't go  _ anywhere _ without her gear, and the gesture's clear enough.

"My methods may be unorthodox, but they are willing to accept me as a character witness assuming I test him as such."

"I have no objections," Wintergreen says.

"You will," Bruce mutters. "It's unpleasant."

"It's only unpleasant if you fight it," Diana says pointedly.

"And you will," Bruce says. It's hard for Jason not to feel that he's sulking. "It will compel you to say things you'd rather not, even if you think you plan to be fully forthcoming."

"Why do I have no idea what you're talking about?" Diana asks.

"Other dimension," Slade says with a wave of his hand. "It didn't go well for Bruce."

Bruce grunts and looks generally sour for the rest of the meal. Despite his warnings, Wintergreen goes right on ahead and volunteers himself for  _ lassoing _ when they're done eating. Jason isn't going to miss a chance to see it, and apparently no one else is either, because they all cram into the entranceway to watch Diana work. She loops the golden line around Wintergreen with a practiced ease before pulling it tight, and Wintergreen looks like he's fighting back an inappropriate Joke.

"What is your name?" Diana asks. "Titles are not necessary."

"William Randolph Wintergreen."

"Are you are who you claim to be?"

There's a moment's pause there, but it seems less like he's fighting it and more like he's trying to figure out what the most accurate answer is.

"Yes," he says. "To you, anyway. I frequently neglect to mention my previous employment to people for reasons I believe are obvious."

"You were an underworld... informant?"

"Broker," Wintergreen corrects. "I matched contracts to clients so that Slade and people like him didn't have to go through all the posted contracts by themselves. Like a realtor for mercenaries."

Diana's lips pursue for a moment before she asks her next question.

"Do you have any clients now?"

"I keep an eye on things and still technically have the Balkan as a client, but no, I have no other contacts."

"The Bal-"

"That's me," Slade says. "Deathstroke's dead, but I always had a backup identity for cases like this. I left the Balkan in play but let people think he was picky about the jobs he took."

"The Balkan was the one hired by Luthor," Bruce adds.

Diana sighs, tightening the bind, and gets back to it.

"Have you ever had contact with David Cain?"

Beside him, Jason sees Cassandra tense at the mention of her father.

"Yes," Wintergreen says, "but not in the way you're looking for. He attempted to kill me when I investigated him on behalf of Slade. Beyond that, we've had no contact."

"Do you mean Cassandra Cain any harm?"

It feels like a stupid question, but Jason supposes that if they're going to go through with compelling the truth anyway, you might as well ask the obvious questions and be sure of it.

"No," Wintergreen says. "I don't."

"Why do you wish to take her away from here?"

_ That _ makes him fight, and everyone can tell. It's the way he clenches his jaw, his bindings flaring brighter. Bruce looks resigned; he knows what Wintergreen's going through, and knows how unpleasant it is.

"Don't fight it," Diana chides. "It will only hurt."

It clearly is hurting, because Wintergreen gives in after only a few more moments, the words spilling from his lips entirely against his will.

"She deserves one on one attention. Slade and the others mean well, but they aren't ever going to be able to give her the focus she needs in order to recover. They were foolish to jump into things without thinking about what she'd need."

Ouch. He's not wrong, but Jason winces anyway.

"Why do  _ you _ wish to take her?" Diana clarifies, her grip on the rope tightening.

Wintergreen fights again, but not as much. It only lasts a few seconds of pointless struggle before he gives in.

"Always wanted a family," he confesses. "That was the plan. Finish with the military, find myself a wife, settle down and have children of my own. Didn't work out that way, and now I'm too old for it to be realistic. Cassandra coming into my life felt like fate. She needs a father who will do right by her, and I want a daughter of my own."

He looks  _ mortified _ to have confessed it, but Diana lets the lasso go slack before jerking it back, returning it to its place at her side.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of that," she says.

"Easy for you to say," Wintergreen grumbles, rubbing at his side where the lasso was digging in. "Now I know why Bruce was so hostile towards it."

Wintergreen didn't say anything  _ wrong, _ but Jason understands now why Bruce was so wary of it. There's a difference between  _ things you're keeping secret _ and  _ things you don't want to say _ and the lasso makes you confess to both.

"No hard feelings about the  _ we were idiots to not think this through," _ Slade says to Wintergreen. "We were. Should have thought more about the public scrutiny she'd be under."

"You should have," he replies, "but I also should have been more vocal in my concerns."

Diana claps her hands together, glancing between Cassandra and Wintergreen. It's hard not to notice that Wintergreen's picked a position near her, and that she's drifted over to stand effectively in his shadow.

"With that done, I give my blessing, which means you're cleared. We'll get all the paperwork going so that can be sorted out, but you can move whenever you want."

"We're already packed," Wintergreen says. "Unless anyone objects, I'd like to get over there as soon as possible so we can get her settled in."

"I was going to go and build furniture," Slade points out.

There's an almost immediate mad scramble over who's going to go with Slade. Joey wants to see where Wintergreen lives. Damian wants to go with Slade. Jason, on the other hand, wants to make sure Cassandra's settled in.

"Executive decision," Bruce says. "The house isn't big enough for everyone to pile in, and it's Friday."

Oh crap, it's Friday.  _ Thomas. _

"Jason can go to help with furniture building and to make sure things are settled in. Damian, I think you might want to visit Thomas with me when I go after lunch. Joey..."

_ I'll stay, _ Joey signs.  _ But someone has to bring me photos of the house. _

"I'll take some," Slade says automatically.

"Next time there's a trip, I will go with Joey, and Jason can sit at home," Damian says, but he doesn't protest further.

Jason feels a pang of guilt for missing Thomas's visit, but his guilt is eased by the idea of Damian getting a visit in.

"Jason," Slade say. "You want to grab your things? It's only a quick drive, but I figure you might want to bring some stuff with you."

"Got it," Jason says, darting off. He knows exactly what Slade means, or at least what he  _ thinks _ Slade means, and heads down to the cave to retrieve a gift. There are two, one intended for Tim and Barbara and the other for Dick, but he simply makes a not to remake a second one as he grabs one up, shoving it in a gift bag before heading back upstairs.

Wintergreen gives him a  _ look _ when he spots the gift bag, but doesn't ask.

"My car's sitting in my driveway," Wintergreen says. "So I'm afraid we're carpooling."

It takes a bit of work to get all the luggage correctly packed into the trunk of the van Slade grabs, but eventually they hit the road with Jason and Cassandra in the back seat.

"Excited?" Jason asks. "Nervous?"

_ Nervous _ gets a nod from her, and he gives her what he hopes will be a reassuring grin.

"We're not far away," he points out. "You can always nag Wintergreen to let you visit."

Compared to driving out to where Slade used to live, the drive is nothing. The grab fast food on the way, eating in the car as they head to Wintergreen's house.

Jason wants to describe it as  _ quaint, _ but knows that would probably be patronizing. It's a single story house intended for two (or three at the most) people, and there's a stack of boxed furniture on the front porch as Wintergreen lets them in. There are clear signs of construction, but the repairs are all finished, and Wintergreen immediately puts them to work clearing it away as he shows Cassandra around the house.

Slade snaps a ton of photos, and Jason rolls his eyes.

"Take them after things are all set up nicely," he says as he starts to unpack one of the boxes.

"Then they'll look staged," Slade counters.

Slade's strength helps a lot when it comes to  _ moving _ the boxes, but it doesn't help with  _ assembling _ the furniture. It's still tricky as all hell, requiring the four of them to collaborate to hold things in the right places. Cassandra's room is just off the master bedroom, and while it starts out almost empty (there are a few storage boxes there to start), by dinnertime it's almost full, and Cassandra is unpacking her clothes into the new wardrobe.

"Hm," Wintergreen says. "I left the suit."

"The what?" Jason asks.

"My old Deathstroke suit," Slade says. "Stored it down in the cave out of sight. You don't need to keep it anymore. Won't bring you anything but trouble."

"I suppose I'm officially retired," Wintergreen says with a sigh. "I'll keep an eye on the Balkan's contacts, but I'm a free man now."

"You're never free of us," Slade says with a grin.

None of them feel up to cooking (Jason suspects Wintergreen is the only one who  _ can _ cook), so they order pizza before they leave. Cassandra seems to have relaxed almost immediately, the quiet surroundings doing plenty to help her.

They're putting their shoes on when Jason remembers the gift bag, darting out to retrieve it. Technically it could go to either of them, but Jason makes sure it goes to Cassandra, who looks at it in confusion.

"It's a gift," Jason says. "For your room."

She stares down at it, and then slowly begins plucking the pieces of tissue paper out of the bag one by one, precisely folding each so they could be reused. She doesn't even  _ look _ at the present itself until they're all out, and only then does she draw out the framed photo.

The photo of all of them. The one Jason pulled from the video they made for the other world. A shot of the family that includes Cassandra.

It looks so damned  _ normal. _

_ Thank you, _ Cassandra signs, so fast Jason almost misses it.

He weighs the pros and cons of going for a hug, and decides a handshake might be more Cassandra's style. It isn't; she just stares at his hand for a few moments before he drops it.

Okay, smile. Smile is more her style, so he smiles at her, and she stares at his face before nodding a little bit.

"Come visit sometime, alright?" Jason says.

"If you need anything, just call," Slade says, shaking Wintergreen's hand.

"Of course," Wintergreen says. "You're hardly more than a stone's throw away."

The drive home is quiet, and Jason dozes through most of it where he sits in the passenger seat.

"You were good with her," Slade says at one point, and Jason turns to look at him, squinting at Slade as he drives.

"Cassandra?"

"Who else would I be talking about?"

"I don't know," Jason says, "it just seemed a bit out of nowhere."

"Been thinking about it a lot. Out of all of us, you did the best with her. I think she liked you."

"Mostly chance," Jason says. "We had a lot of periods where it was just the two of us, so I think that helped."

"Probably did," Slade says. "But give yourself credit where it's due."

Jason turns away to stare out the window and doesn't respond. He doesn't think he did anything particularly important, let alone worthy of praise, and hearing it just makes him embarrassed.

"Proud of you," Slade says quietly, and Jason's face burns. He keeps his head good and turned until the blush fades, watching the scenery go by.


	76. Chapter 76

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sexual content.

Alfred has food ready for them when they get home, even though they're late for dinner. He dotes on them as they settle in to eat, and everyone else trickles in to hear what they have to say.

When _ Joey _ joins them in the kitchen, he does so by lightly touching his hand to Jason's back, and the slight touch is enough to completely distract Jason from whatever he was about to say.

"So how was Thomas?" Slade says between bites, and Jason's happy he asked, because he'd completely forgotten.

"Same as last week," Bruce confirms. "Seemed happy we came back."

Joey's hand lifts away from his back as he signs to the group, and Jason mourns the loss.

_ I think he liked me more this visit than he did the entire time we lived together, _ he signs.

"We talked about Batcow," Damian says. "He won't be able to visit, but I made sure he got a picture of her."

"How long before Batcow's his favorite grandchild?" Jason asks, and Damian wrinkles his nose like he'd never given it any thought before.

"And how was the trip...?" Bruce asks, dragging the conversation around to what _ he _ cares about.

Slade shows off the photos, and Joey confirms what he suspected: he recognizes the house, his Wintergreen having lived in it at one point.

_ He never moved, I guess, _ Joey signs.

"Cassandra liked the photo," Jason says. "We ordered pizza-"

Alfred looks absolutely scandalized.

"If you already ate, what am I feeding you for?" He asks.

"Your food's better," Jason counters. "Of course we're going to eat anything you give us."

That seems to calm Alfred down. Buttering him up always _ did _ work well...

He's pretty damned tired after a day of moving around furniture, and Jason says as much as he finishes his food.

"Going to go to bed early," he says. It's a free day the next day, but just because it's _ supposed _ to be free doesn't mean it'll _ actually _ be free. He knows better than to expect anything of the sort.

Joey catches him before he can actually go to bed. He knocks on the wall to draw Jason's attention, and Jason regrets not having his earpiece in as he glances back.

"Oh, Joey," he says. "You get a lot done today?"

_ Not as much as I'd like, _ he signs. _ I wanted to know if you wanted to cuddle? _

The forwardness of it makes Jason's head spin, and the idea of it—of just _ cuddling _ —means he immediately can't help but think of what _ else _ they did recently.

_ Just cuddling, _ Joey signs. _ I'm not pushing for anything more. _It's clear he's trying to clarify, either misreading Jason's expression or just being confused about why he's going red, and Jason shakes his head.

"No, I - I got what you meant. We could... yeah. We could do that."

_ Your room or mine? _

Jason weighs his options.

"I - mine is fine," he says. Joey hasn't even really been _ in _ his room, and just having Joey in there feels deeply intimate when he shows up a little while later. Jason's already changed into pajamas, but Joey's still in his clothes.

_ Wasn't sure how you slept, _ Joey signs. _ Pajamas? _

"Just sleep how you'd normally sleep," Jason says. That feels like the obvious conclusion: that they're going to spend the night together in the most literal sense possible. As tired as he is, Jason doubts he's going to be staying awake for long, and he doesn't want to kick Joey out the moment he falls asleep.

Jason's big brain has thought it through, but his little brain isn't quite cooperating. Joey, as it turns out, sleeps just in underwear, and the moment he strips down Jason ends up with an erection that he tries desperately to hide by ducking under the sheets.

It's a big bed. Big enough for both of them to fit comfortably with room to spare. Even so, it feels _ impossibly _ small as Joey curls in beside him, and Jason reaches out, snagging his earpiece and slipping it in so that Joey can talk without things getting _ really _ weird.

"I probably shouldn't have been so forward," Joey says, and Jason shivers not so much at the sound of his voice as he is at the idea of Joey lying in bed beside him, speaking in his ear.

"No," he blurts. "This is - I don't have any issues with this."

He likes the physical contact. Hell, he's _ dying _ for it. All he wants right then is to be buried in Joey's arms, pressed up against him, but it feels like an impossible gulf exists between them. Getting that would mean taking that step _ himself, _ and that feels much harder than it should.

It's Joey who takes the first move, because it's _ always _ Joey who makes the first move. When Jason rolls onto his side—facing away from Joey because he's going to die of embarrassment if he stares at him any longer—Joey moves up against him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling Jason's back against his chest.

Jason whimpers at the contact, pressing back against Joey. If Joey's hands go any lower-

Of course they do. They drift down, brushing Jason's erection, and Jason makes a little choked noise as Joey wraps his hand around his cock, the fabric of his pajamas not nearly half as good as the feel of Joey's skin.

Jason's never wanted to be naked so badly in his life.

"Are you alright with this?" Joey asks, and Jason nods as enthusiastically as he can with Joey behind him. God, yes, he's alright with it. He wants it. He's _ desperate _ for it, and he rocks his body back against Joey in a desperate attempt to show it.

Joey releases him, and Jason bites his lip to stifle the noise of disappointment in the seconds before Joey reaches up, pulling the waistband of Jason's pajamas down until his cock springs free.

_ Yes. _ He wants that feeling, that skin-on-skin contact, and when Joey kisses at the back of his neck his entire body arches into it.

"Joey," he groans as Joey wraps his fingers around Jason's cock once again.

"I should have kept at it," Joey says. "I wanted to give you space."

"Don't need space," Jason mumbles. "This is - it's _ good." _

Joey's hand hasn't even _ moved, _ but the warmth feels amazing anyway.

"Tell me how good," Joey says, and Jason shivers as his hand squeezes lightly, still not moving. "Tell me about it."

He's going to have to tell him. He's going to have to _ talk _ about it. It's harder than it should be, because Jason can't even figure out how to put the thoughts together in his own head, let alone figure out how to say them out loud. But Joey's clearly in no hurry, not moving at all, and Jason's pretty sure he's not _ going _ to move until Jason answers.

"It was... my first time with anything," Jason admits. "Anyone. You were so... you were so careful with me that it made me feel like I was some... some delicate, precious thing that needed protecting."

He doesn't say that he sort of liked it. It feels implied with the fact that he's confessing it at all.

Joey kisses across the back of his neck, kissing every bit of exposed skin, and Jason lets out another groan. He shouldn't be as turned on as he is, but he _ absolutely _ is.

"More," Joey says, and Jason—normally so hesitant to talk about himself—is desperate to oblige him.

"I think I would have done anything you asked," Jason admits. "But I didn't - I didn't want to ask. I thought it would be greedy to want more."

"You're allowed to be greedy," Joey says, and Jason chokes on his own breath as Joey starts to stroke in slow, measured movements.

"I just - you're -" He can't manage it. He can't talk while Joey's hand is moving like that. He can't form a coherent thought when Joey's kissing the back of his neck again.

He sure as hell can't talk when Joey leans over, sucking a hickey into the bare skin where his neck meets his shoulder.

"Joey," Jason chokes out, the sensation so intense that tears well in the corner of his eyes.

Joey never even speeds up. He keeps his nice even pace as he strokes Jason right through his orgasm.

Jason sags into the bed as Joey climbs out of it, and he makes a small noise at the loss of warmth it represents. One minute Joey's there, pressed against him, and the next he's simply gone.

"I'll be back," Joey says in his ear, and Jason burrows into the sheets to wait.

Joey's good to his word. He isn't gone more than a few minutes before he crawls into bed again, and Jason instinctively rolls over to face him as Joey pulls him closer.

"But you-"

"It's handled," Joey says. "Tonight was about you."

He presses a kiss to Jason's forehead, reaching up to take the earpiece out for him, and Jason curls against Joey that much tighter. He considers arguing the point—he thinks he could make a pretty compelling point about Jason needing to return the favor—but in the end he falls asleep before he can really manage.


	77. Chapter 77

Jason wakes to find himself tangled in Joey's arms. For all his concerns about Joey sneaking off to go back to his own bed, they prove entirely unfounded, and he couldn't be happier. He curls against Joey, pushing himself tighter to him, and buries his face against Joey's shoulder.

He's happy. He's so happy he feels like his heart's going to burst from his chest. Waking to find someone else there feels good. Waking to find  _ Joey _ there, knowing that he spent the night? Even better.

He feels almost drunk on it. On knowing he's there. What they did the night before doesn't even  _ matter, _ only the fact that Joey's still there.

That he didn't leave.

Jason thinks Joey's still asleep until he waves his hand and Jason realizes he's just signed  _ five, _ like  _ give me five more minutes, _ and Jason grins to himself, letting himself just lie there and enjoy it.

"Thank you," Jason mumbles after a little bit, and Joey cracks an eye open. It's hard to read his signs at the angle they're at, but Jason can mostly fill in the blanks.

_ For? _

"Staying," Jason says. "It... it means a lot that you'd stay."

Joey leans over, kissing him lightly, and Jason sags back into the bed. It just feels  _ good. _ So good it's almost overwhelming. Like everything is alright. He feels his eyes start to water, and he sees Joey sign something, but he can't actually read the signs through his tears, and he reaches up, furiously wiping at his eyes as Joey touches the side of his head.

"Are you alright?" Joey asks, and Jason realizes he's pressed the earpiece into his ear to let himself speak.

"I'm fine," Jason blurts, still wiping at his eyes. He just needs to stop the tears. He just needs to stop himself from crying. It's just so much easier said than done. "Really, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Joey says, and through his tears Jason can see how close Joey is and the concern on his face.

"It's okay," Jason mumbles. "It's - I'm happy." He tries to insist even as Joey showers his forehead with kisses, pulling him into a hug. It just makes things worse, because he's right  _ there, _ and it takes Jason a little bit to pull himself together enough to actually  _ talk. _

Joey shushes his mumbled apologies when he tries, and Jason gives up for a while longer, curling against Joey until he feels well enough to talk.

"Sorry," Jason mumbles, "for dumping all this on you."

His eyes are dry enough to watch Joey's hands, watching the way he signs his responses. They've both rolled onto their sides to face each other, and Joey's pulled the sheets down so he can sign more easily.

_ It's alright, _ Joey signs.  _ Although I'm a bit confused. _

No wonder.

"I just - sleeping used to be really hard for me, and now it's back to  _ mostly _ okay, but waking up with someone there just felt..." He pauses, struggling for words.  _ Good _ seems right, but it also feels like he's undershooting how extreme it is for him.

Waking up in a bed is one thing. Waking up with someone physically  _ there _ puts a hard line between his life before and his life now.

It makes it clear how much has changed.

It's enough to make him ask.

"Can we - could we do this more?"

_ You mean spending the night? _ Joey signs, and Jason nods his head immediately.

_ Sure,  _ he signs right back, and then Joey grins at him and Jason feels like he's melting.  _ I'm certainly not going to turn down an opportunity to spend the night. _

"I-"

There's a knock at the door and Jason jumps so hard he very nearly falls out of bed.

"Master Jason?" Alfred calls. "Breakfast will be served shortly."

_ He's going to find out eventually, _ Joey signs.

"Not right  _ now,"  _ Jason hisses, before turning to the door and calling out. "Just about to hop in the shower, I'll be out in a moment!"

There's no further knocking, and Jason sags back into the bed.

"I need to shower," he mumbles. "For real."

_ So do I,  _ Joey signs, pushing himself out of bed.  _ I'll see you at breakfast? _

When he glances back to Jason, he seems to smirk just for a moment before turning away.

Jason makes it through the shower and up to the mirror before he realizes  _ why _ Joey smirked. Right where his neck meets his shoulder is the most  _ obvious _ hickey he's ever seen in his goddamn life, and Jason lets out a groan of exasperation as he ducks into his closet to find a turtleneck.

He has exactly  _ one _ (his neck's never been much of an issue) shirt that will cover his neck, so he pulls it on, wondering what he's supposed to do the  _ next _ day. Get a scarf?

Ugh.

He keeps his neck hidden as he heads into the kitchen, arriving relatively late. Damian, Slade, and Joey are already there, and Jason can hear Alfred in the kitchen. That just leaves Bruce, which feels like  _ far _ fewer people than it actually is.

"You're lucky I have something to distract your father with," Slade mutters under his breath, and Jason lets out a groan.

So much for everyone pretending Joey  _ hadn't _ spent the night.

"Don't know what you mean," Jason mumbles as he takes a seat, and Slade shoots him a dirty look.

"You realize that  _ Batman _ has come to be used as slang for someone—especially a parent or older mentor figure—who seems to know everything you're trying to hide from them no matter what you do? And you realize that you live with the  _ real _ Batman?"

Damian is  _ right there, _ and when Jason gives him a glance (mostly to make sure  _ Slade _ remembers he's there), he's met with a roll of Damian's eyes.

"I am aware you have spent the night together," he says flatly.

"Damian-"

"I know what sex is, Jason," Damian says, and Jason just about dies then and there.

"We are  _ not _ having this conversation."

"Not having  _ what _ conversation?" Bruce asks as he arrives, and Jason quickly busies himself with eating.

"Did you see the news?" Slade asks, and Jason wonders just what it was he was talking about when he mentioned  _ having something to distract your father with. _

"I see a lot of news," Bruce says as he settles in. He's wearing a tie, and Jason's pretty sure that means he's actually going to be heading in to work. "You'll have to be more specific."

Slade reaches into his pocket, pulls out a piece of paper, and slides it across the table. Everyone leans forward, craning their necks to see, and...

It's a photo of a woman in what looks like gear inspired by their own, her flaming red hair billowing out behind her. Across from her, another woman whose garb screams  _ ninja. _

"That's Lady Shiva!" Damian says, pointing his finger to the ninja. "I would recognize her anywhere."

Bruce lets out a groan.

"Photo was taken last night on some Parisian rooftops. Witnesses report it was a draw, and Shiva managed to escape. The vigilante-"

"Is Kate Kane," Bruce mutters. "Batwoman in the other dimension. My cousin."

"-Was named  _ Boudica _ by the local press in the UK when she first showed up," Slade finishes with a roll of his eyes. "And yes, it's almost definitely Kate."

"I can't believe she'd lie to me like that," Bruce says. He sounds genuinely wounded, and Slade looks like he's  _ struggling _ to keep his mouth shut.

Slade's done him a solid, so he opts to return the favor.

"Bruce," Jason says. "Father-o-mine. I love you. But did you  _ really _ think she'd just say 'yes I'm a vigilante' when you asked?"

"She already knew-"

"That you were with the League. She didn't even know you were Batman at the time."

"But she knows now!"

"You are killing me," Jason mumbles. "There are like six billion reasons why she wouldn't want to tell you, Bruce."

Bruce looks like a dog that's been kicked, and Jason sighs in sheer exasperation.

"I'm going to call her," Slade says, pulling out his phone as he gets up from the table.

"What?" Bruce says. "Why not me?"

"Because you already tried once and failed. Let me handle it." Slade bends down, planting a kiss on Bruce's cheek before heading off towards their room.

Damian helps clear the dishes and then asks if Jon can come over (but  _ just _ Jon, he specifies), running off to let Jon know it's a yes.

_ Going to work on the painting, _ Joey signs, giving them a quick wave before heading out.

Jason finishes clearing the table, and he's about to head to the office to hammer through some work when Bruce—about ready to leave for work—stops him.

"Jason," he says, his tone serious, and Jason cringes. He doesn't want this conversation. He  _ really _ doesn't want the conversation. "Are you happy?"

The question catches Jason completely off guard. It's not  _ are you sleeping together _ or  _ are you being safe _ or anything like that. It's just... happiness.

"Yes," Jason says. He doesn't have to think about it.

Bruce pauses for a moment and then smiles, reaching over to pull Jason into a hug. Jason returns it, feeling more confused than anything, and gives his father a squeeze.

"I'm happy," Jason says. "Really."

Bruce kisses his forehead before breaking the hug, straightening out his tie and making sure he looks presentable.

"Alright," Bruce says. "That's all I wanted to know. As long as you're safe and happy... that's the only thing that matters." He makes it almost to the door before he glances over his shoulder.

"I love you, Jason," Bruce says, waiting for his reply.

"Love you too," Jason says automatically.

Bruce smiles and heads out the door, leaving Jason feeling stupidly flustered by the whole thing.


	78. Chapter 78

Slade looks insufferably smug when he gets back from making the call, and while he  _ says _ he's going to wait for Bruce to come back he doesn't actually end up lasting a whole ten minutes before he spills the beans.

"For the record," Slade says, leaning against the office desk as Jason types away at his work, "that was her."

"Who would have thought," Jason says, rolling his eyes.

"Told her to come stop by next time she's in America," he adds. "Explained the situation to her, and she's a bit more understanding now."

"Who would have thought being less direct than  _ hey are you an illegal vigilante w _ ould get results?"

"Imagine that," Slade says with a chuckle. "You got stuff to do today?"

"Work," Jason says. "Michael sent some stuff over for me to look at."

"Work never ends," says Slade, who Jason is pretty sure hasn't worked an actual  _ job _ for more than thirty years. Maybe forty.

"Shoo," Jason says, ushering him out. "Some of us have actual work to do. Go help Alfred."

"I was thinking we could make a public appearance," Slade says. "There's a place that just opened downtown that does Bialyian food."

"Since when did you like Bialyian food?" Jason doesn't think he's ever even had any.

"Since I tried it back when I was helping French and the boys," Slade says. "You can just never find it anywhere around Gotham. Not much of a Bialyian community. If you want it, you've got to go out on the west coast."

Jason stares blankly at him, and Slade grunts.

"Dinner?"

"Sure," Jason says. "Don't see why not."

Slade looks happy as can be as he heads out of the office, leaving Jason to his work.

Bruce ends up agreeing to meet them for dinner, which means it's up to Jason to track down Damian. He finds him and Jon out in the woods, which is a  _ lot _ harder than it should be.

"Time to go," Jason says. "Slade's taking us out for dinner."

"What?!" Damian yelps, sounding outraged. "We were in the middle of something."

The something they were in the middle of appears to be talking, with the two of them sitting in a tree. Jason's pretty sure the  _ something _ involves Jon complaining about his pack of siblings now that the novelty's worn off, but that doesn't mean Damian's getting out of dinner.

"We're going to get Bialyan food," Jason calls up, and Damian leans out, looking down at Jason as he makes a disgusted face.

"Can I eat with the Kents? I hate Bialyan food."

"You can't just invite yourself over, Damian."

"No, he's invited!" Jon protests, and Jason's seen this happen enough to know  _ just _ what to say.

"Did he get invited, or did you just invite him right now without asking your parents?"

Jon's awkward squirm makes it clear what the answer is, but he hops up, floating in the air.

"I'll go ask!" Jon says, and then flies off towards the house.

"He's getting blatant with that, isn't he?" Jason mutters to himself, and Damian drops down to the forest floor, straightening up.

"He is," Damian says. "He has been able to relax and use his abilities more, since the odds of someone spotting us is unlikely."

"Prob-"

Jason doesn't get to finish the word before Jon reappears, hovering about a foot off the ground.

"Dad says it's fine!" Jon says.

Jason has to make an executive decision, but after a moment shrugs it off. Damian eats with them plenty, and the novelty of having his best friend nearby clearly hasn't worn off.

"Alright," Jason says. "You can stay, but you need to help the Kents clean up after dinner, just like you would at home. No playing the  _ I'm a guest  _ card."

Damian huffs as if he'd  _ never _ do such a thing, and Jason waves them off before heading back to the house. Slade doesn't look that bothered by his choice, shrugging it off as they load into Slade's car.

"Not quite a family trip," Slade says. "But it was kind of last minute."

"Did you end up getting the painting done?" Jason asks as they settle in, and Joey immediately shakes his head.

_ I'm still doing some finer detail work,  _ Joey signs.  _ It's hard to get a piece like that to a place where I'm happy with it. _

Jason's anxious to see it, but doesn't push further, turning his attention to the city.

Bruce is already there when they arrive, standing up with a smile on his face before pausing and looking around.

"Where's Damian?"

"Eating with the Kents," Jason says. "He asked, and I think Jon needed some emotional support."

"Hmm," Bruce mutters. "I was hoping for a family meeting, but-"

Jason doesn't get a chance to find out what his  _ but _ was. There's a small commotion behind them in the restaurant entrance, and all of them turn to look as a group of what appear to be  _ very _ drunk college students bustle in. They're loud enough that Jason winces when one starts demanding a table, and Bruce gestures for them to move to the side and get out of the new arrival's way.

It doesn't matter anyway. One of them spots Bruce, his mouth dropping open, and then he points directly at them and says in the  _ loudest possible voice,  _ "holy shit, it's Batman!"

It immediately ruins any chance they had of a low-key dinner, because while people might have stared discretely before, someone loudly announcing their presence means that  _ everyone _ is suddenly turning their way, peeking over the back of booths and gawking openly.

Bruce lets out a groan.

"What, too good for us?" The one closest to them says, and then, to Jason's complete and utter shock, he attempts to punch Bruce in the face.

It is, by far, the  _ ballsiest _ move Jason has ever seen any living being engage in. Not just punching Bruce Wayne. No, punching Bruce Wayne completely unprovoked in the entrance of a crowded restaurant while he's surrounded by his family in full view of absolutely everyone.

Bruce stands his ground. He doesn't even flinch. He doesn't  _ need _ too, because Slade's hand shoots out faster than the blink of an eye and intercepts, catching the aggressor's fist before it can even touch Bruce.

"Did you just  _ attack my husband?" _

Jason can  _ hear _ Slade squeeze the man's hands, his bones creaking, and cringes.

The owner bursts onto the scene. She looks  _ beside _ herself, absolutely horrified, and Jason can't blame her. She's got someone beside her who has the  _ look _ of security but is wearing an apron, and the maybe-security-guard inserts himself between Bruce and his attacker as Slade releases his fist.

Jason's not sure if Slade  _ broke _ his fist, but he's pretty sure something cracked.

"Mr. Wayne," the owner says, looking almost at the point of tears. "I am so, so sorry-"

"It's fine," Bruce says, slipping effortlessly into his carefully cultivated public persona. "It wasn't as if you caused this, after all. You responded in a  _ very _ timely manner-"

"The police are already on their way," she says desperately, and Jason doesn't doubt it for a moment because it looks like half the restaurant are on their phones right then. "We'll - we'll handle things."

Jason's pretty sure she's worried about Bruce sueing, but he quickly waves off her concern.

"Didn't lay a finger on me," he says. "I don't suppose we could get a table?"

They can, in fact, get a table. They get the best table in the house, and the chef comes out personally to take their orders. While it's clear the owner asked him to do so, he seems absolutely delighted when Slade reveals that he's fluent, and they go off on a rapid, chattering conversation about Slade's favorite dishes.

Jason keeps an eye on the front of the restaurant, where the drunks have been sequestered, and the police arrive in record time. They have camera footage and more witnesses than they could possibly hope for, and the man's unconvincing  _ he started it by looking at me funny _ isn't going to win him any prizes.

It's Jason who recognizes the officers when they make their way to the table.

"Officer Holmes," Jason says with a grin. "Didn't realize you worked Saturdays."

"Didn't used to," Holmes says automatically, before catching himself and looking Jason over again. "...Feels weird having this conversation with you not wearing a mask."

"You get used to it," Slade says. "Everything get sorted out?"

Jason isn't surprised when Bruce asks them not to press assault charges. It's attention they don't need, and there's little to be gained for it. On the other hand, drunk and disorderly has a  _ lot  _ to be gained from it, and Jason doesn't doubt that they'll get the book thrown at them considering what just happened.

"Enjoy your food," Holmes says, tipping his hat, and he pulls back right as the chef arrives with a small army of waiters and far more dishes than they ordered.

"A sample platter," he says, dropping it in the center of the table. "On the house."

_ Never had any of this before, _ Joey signs before loading his plate, and Jason does the same. Slade and Bruce both clearly have, because they have obvious favorites before they've even started.

Their conversation is fairly muted. There are too many things they can't—or shouldn't—talk about, and it's easier to focus on eating rather than talking. Jason is  _ very _ aware of how many people are looking at them, and can't help but feel that privacy is rapidly becoming a  _ manor-only _ thing.

Or maybe it was always a manor-only thing, and he was just oblivious to the whole thing.

Bruce fights the owner vigorously when she tries to comp their entire meal, insisting on paying and leaving a generous tip. He swears he enjoyed everything, and apologizes for the trouble as they finally leave, heading back to their cars.

It isn't until they're back at the manor that Jason gets to hear what Bruce is  _ actually _ thinking.

"That was exhausting," he groans the moment he gets out of the car, tipping his head back and letting out a sigh. "I just wanted to eat dinner, and now everyone's going to have a million videos of Slade nearly killing a man."

"I was close," Slade mutters under his breath. "If he'd laid a hand on you-"

"I can handle myself," Bruce counters, and Jason stiffens as Joey runs a hand across his back, looping an arm around his waist.

"They're a cute couple when they bicker like this," Joey says through the earpiece, and Jason leans against him out of pure instinct.

Bruce is right when they check: there are dozens of photos and videos from the restaurant, and the gossip rags are going absolutely  _ crazy _ over it. Even so, things aren't that bad. Even the absolute  _ worst _ of the gossip rags seems to be having trouble spinning it as a negative thing, since the video footage makes it  _ very _ clear that Bruce didn't say a single thing before he was attacked.

To Jason's intense horror, the internet has apparently decided that Slade is "very attractive", "a knight in shining armor", and a number of other terms that Jason doesn't even want to think about.

"That's enough internet for today," Jason mumbles, dropping his phone back into his pocket. "Going to head to bed."

Joey trails after him, and when Jason hesitates he reaches up, hooking a finger into the neck of his shirt and pulling it down to get a good look at the mark he left. Jason goes pink, and Joey leans up, kissing him lightly. It's  _ just _ a kiss, but it's also  _ just _ a kiss where anyone could walk in on them.

"Want me to join you?" Joey asks, and Jason gets even more flustered, swallowing down his anxiety.

"Yeah," he says. "I'd like that."

To Jason's immense relief, it's  _ just _ snuggling that night. Jason's not sure he has the energy to get properly riled up, and when he says as much Joey tilts his head back, body shaking as he laughs.

_ We've got therapy in the morning, _ he points out.  _ We both need to get some rest. _

Jason curls against him, letting himself nod off to sleep in Joey's arms.


	79. Chapter 79

The second morning feels more successful than the first. The _ first _ involved him bawling his eyes out over basically nothing, but the second really just involves him rolling out of bed and hitting the shower. Joey's gone by the time he gets back out, which leaves Jason trying to figure out how the hell he's supposed to hide the giant hickey Joey left him with.

He ends up settling on the old Batman favorite, and applies some concealer to hide it the way he would any bruise he gained while Batman. Of course Joey notices over breakfast, giving him a wicked grin before leaning over to kiss his cheek.

"How's Jon?" Jason asks, fairly sure there's a story there that Damian will confess too if only he asks the right way.

He's right.

"Jon got into a fight with Gar yesterday morning," Damian confides. "He's worried that Gar's other siblings will take his side over Jon's own, even though Jon was clearly in the right."

"I'm sure they'll see reason," Slade points out. "And if they don't, you just have to tell Clark."

"I don't want to tell Clark," Damian protests. "I want to resolve things in a timely manner on my own."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine," Bruce says, reaching up to rub at his scar. Jason's sure it's twingeing—boy can he sympathize with that— and tries not to stare too openly.

"The two of you will be leaving after breakfast?" Alfred asks, looking between Jason and Joey.

"We are," Jason says. "We'll leave right after."

_ It's nice having a therapist who I don't have to talk around my issues with, _ Joey says with an amused chuckle. _ Took them a bit to get past the other-dimension stuff. _

"Every so often I say something to Hudson that just catches him completely off guard, so I can't blame them," Jason says.

"You live distinctly strange lives," Alfred points out.

"Ain't that the truth."

Damian ends up going with Alfred on his weekly shopping trip, while Jason carpools with Joey to their appointments. He double checks that church is still happening (it is) and then heads inside.

Lonnie's at the desk, but he doesn't get a chance to actually talk with him, because Lonnie waves him over to the office.

"He's already waiting," he says. "Talk after?"

Jason shoots him a thumbs up and heads inside. Hudson's settled in his office, a steaming mug in his hand.

"Sea salt caramel hot chocolate," he explains. "Want some?"

He does, and it helps set the tone as Jason settles into his usual seat. It feels pleasant and casual to do, and helps him relax a bit more as he drinks.

"So," Hudson says, "where are we starting?"

There feels like there's a lot to cover, but when Jason actually gets down to it, there's not _ actually _ that much. He talks about getting the videos back, and about visiting Thomas. He talks about Cass leaving, and the modeling, and even sort of _ very _ briefly touches on what happened with Joey. He obviously doesn't want to talk in _ too _ much detail, but he can at least talk about how happy he felt waking up with Joey beside him.

And then he's done.

It hasn't even been a whole ten minutes, but he's talked about pretty much everything he has to talk about. It's only then that he notes the look on Hudson's face. The man is, for some reason, _ up to something. _

"What?" Jason blurts, suddenly nervous. "What am I missing?"

"Nothing," Hudson points out, leaning back in his chair. "You had a busy week with plenty to do, but you handled it all well. I've always said that therapy is about making sure someone has the tools and mindset to make the right choices when faced with difficulties, and you've done just that. This week wasn't any easier than past weeks, but you've handled them with flying colors. Hell, you've been handling things well for a while."

Hudson grins and leans back in his chair, sipping his drink. He looks... relaxed. Normal.

"So... what does that mean?" Jason says carefully. It feels like a trap or some kind of trick. Like Hudson's about to yell _ gotcha _ and everything will fall apart.

"We've been at this for a long time," Hudson says, "and I think it's time you start to... graduate, let's call it."

Graduating. He's _ graduating _ from therapy?

"There are signs that you've accomplished all you can from therapy. One of them is not having much to talk about. Another is feeling positive about the future. You are in a much, much better place than you were when we started. The difference is _ immense." _

"But-" Jason blurts, his mouth working faster than his brain. "I just - I broke down not too long ago."

"You broke down," Hudson agrees, "and you helped pick yourself back up. You've had a rough few weeks, the sort of things that would make _ anyone _ break down, and you kept going. You have an excellent support structure and all the tools you could need."

Jason goes to protest, but Hudson holds up a finger, asking him for silence.

"Just take a minute," Hudson says. "Think about it. Then answer."

So he does. He stops and thinks about it, letting himself turn over the idea rather than answering right away. Even worse, the correct answer comes almost immediately: Hudson is right. He can handle things. He's been handling things without Hudson's help for a while.

The words _ safety net _ come to mind, and he wonders if he's let therapy become that.

"...Probably," Jason admits, and Hudson smiles at him, taking another drink from his mug.

"I would say more than probably," Hudson says. "I had planned to do this months ago, but right around the time I started getting my ducks in a row, your parents ended up lost in another dimension, and I thought it might be better to wait."

Probably a good idea. He's not sure how he'd have managed otherwise.

"So what happens now?" Jason asks. His mouth feels dry, and he's not sure what he's expecting to hear. "Is this our last session."

"Absolutely not," Hudson says. "You've been in therapy for years. I feel like it would throw you off to suddenly be completely free of it. We'll... step things down. Spend a month or two at every other week and see how that goes. Go to monthly. Eventually, the goal is that it's just a matter of knowing you have someone on-call, rather than something that happens regularly."

It feels like a colossal, monumental change.

"Alright," he says, pushing his anxiety down. "We can - we can do that."

"I know you probably feel anxious about the idea," Hudson says, pulling no punches, "but I'm confident you'll be able to manage. In a few weeks, I'll close this office, and we can meet elsewhere. Either house calls, or-"

"What about your other patients?"

Hudson lets out a small laugh at that.

"I stopped taking patients years back," he explains. "I have two other patients. One is already on a monthly schedule. The other is already at the call-in-case-of-emergency stage."

"...You're retiring," Jason says, the realization hitting him like a blow to the head.

"That's right," he says. "Transferred some of my patients to colleagues and other offices over time. A few who'd been with me years I'd rather continue with until I'm no longer needed."

Patients like _ him. _

"Thank you," Jason says, his voice whisper soft.

"It makes me happy to see that you've come this far," Hudson says, setting his mug aside. "You've grown so much, and I know you can manage from now on."

There's one more hammer blow when he finishes his appointment. Lonnie's waiting up for him, and it's clear that he has something to say. Even before he says it though, Jason knows what it's going to be.

"You're leaving," Jason says, and Lonnie—clearly about to say something to that effect—closes his mouth and nods. "Today?"

"Next Friday's my last day," Lonnie says. "Main reason I took this job was because this was one of the only places that was still operating entirely by hand. Paper files, old style scheduler... One of my parole restrictions was no computer usage or access to the internet, but I managed to convince the parole board that it was an unfair requirement. Told Hudson the next day, and he got me a better position at another office within a week."

Which means he's going too. The office really _ is _ closing. It feels like the end of an era, and in a lot of ways Jason feels like he's been going to the same office and seeing the same people for his whole life.

He defines his life as _ before Slade _ and _ after Slade, _ and almost the entirety of _ after Slade _ involves therapy with Hudson every single Sunday.

And now it's over.

"It was good getting to know you," Lonnie says, sticking his hand out. "Don't think you realized it, but even our conversations were pretty nice. It was hard settling in, and having someone like you just treat me normally was... nice. Even if you didn't know who I was."

"I don't think I did anything special," Jason protests, but he takes Lonnie's hand anyway, giving it a firm shake.

"That's what makes you special," Lonnie counters with a laugh. "I'll see you around sometime, alright?"

"I'll see you around," Jason confirms. He feels like he should probably sad. Like he should cry that it's over. But instead he just feels _ satisfied. _

It feels like he's won against something only he was fighting.


	80. Chapter 80

He's already in town, so Jason drops by Wayne Outreach. Michael has paperwork for him (because of course he does), and promises that he'll stop by the manor at some point with more.

"Should I expect you'll mysteriously decide to show up right when Alfred's bringing food out?" Jason asks, and Michael just grins at him.

He sees Amina (back in town from her trip), checks on a few projects (all chugging along nicely with Michael's oversight), and then does a quick impromptu meet and greet with some donors who happen to be visiting. They all seem delighted to meet him, and Jason suspects part of the reason they chose Wayne Outreach at all is to capitalize on media's hyper-focus on _ Batman _ news.

He makes a calculated decision to drop by a local sandwich shop, drawing plenty of attention and getting his picture snapped. It's the easiest way he can think of to help push the idea that they're no longer recluses, and it costs him almost no time at all. Even better, they have a special Batman themed cookie, and he buys a stack of them for the house.

He's just leaving when he gets a text from Joey with two simple words: Look up. He does, spotting Joey perched on a nearby rooftop, and he instinctively waves to beckon him down.

Joey comes down, which drives the gathered crowd pretty mad. He's wearing the ikon suit that hides his face, but there's not really any question of who he is, considering he's _ flying, _ and Joey seems unbothered by the attention as he settles down onto a clear patch of sidewalk.

Jason catches one quick sign—done discreetly at Joey's side—but they're enough.

_Kiss. _

That's all it is, but there can't be any question of what he's asking. He's asking if he can kiss him, but not just that: he's asking if he can kiss him _ in public, _ with everyone watching.

He wants to know if that's okay, and Jason makes a snap decision, finger-spelling _ ok _ at his side.

Jason is expecting something polite and quick. He's expecting Joey to pull down his mask, lean in and kiss him. What he is _ not _ expecting is for Joey, in one smooth move, to pull down his mask and then _ dip _ him.

Because that's what he does: dips Jason like he's on the front cover of a trashy romance novel.

Jason had emotionally prepared himself for a _ kiss, _ but what he gets is so different that he can't stop the blush from happening as Joey kisses him, his hand on the small of Jason's back. He can hear the crowd's surprise as Joey pulls him back up, and Jason's _ sure _ he's red as a tomato.

The news is going to go _ bonkers. _

"You ass," Jason mumbles under his breath, and Joey grins at him, clearly amused.

_ Want a ride home? _ He signs.

"I have a car," Jason points out. "I can't just leave it. Take these, though, and I'll meet you there."

He hands over the bag of cookies in full view of everyone, and Joey nods, pulling his mask back up before lifting off.

It takes a bit of wrangling to get free of the crowd enough to get into his car, and a bit more to get people out of the way so he can actually make it to the road. People are gawking, and he's sure his face is still red even as he tries to fight back the blush.

He really probably should have expected that.

He's not even halfway home when Bruce calls.

"Did you just kiss Joey in public?" He asks, and Jason lets out a groan.

"Yes," he says. "He dipped me. It was very dramatic."

"Apparently. It has been suggested to me that you put out a press release to clarify anything you wish to clarify, because now everyone wants to know who Joey is, and half the sites are saying you came out as gay."

"I'm not-"

"I know, Jason. They don't. Should I put one out?"

Jason grumbles to himself a bit before answering.

"Yes," he says. "Put one out. Might as well get something positive out of the gossip fiends gawking at us."

"I was thinking the same thing," Bruce says. "I'll talk to Joey and see how much he wants public."

Part of him regrets saying yes, but another part of him is happy he's not going to have to hide. He's done _ enough _ hiding. He hid being Batman, he hid who he was... and the idea of just being _ public _ feels so satisfying that he can't resist the idea.

"If nothing else," Bruce says, sounding awfully amused, "this should cut down on all the well off families in Gotham asking me if you've found someone yet and telling me about their single daughters..."

Jason laughs it off and says his goodbyes, hanging up as he heads to the house.

He avoids the news (which he does most days, if he's being honest with himself) and goes about his day like he would have any _ other _ day. Surprisingly, he doesn't see much of Joey that afternoon, and when he asks he gets told that Joey's working on his painting.

"And I believe he was calling miss Kane-" Alfred starts.

"He's calling Kate?" Bruce asks, looking confused.

"Other Kane," Slade says. "My ex-wife." His expression is clearly sour as he says it.

"He is keeping in contact with her," Alfred says, completely ignoring Bruce and Slade. "I believe weekly phone calls, or something of the sort."

"Hopefully things go better than they did with his real mom," Jason says and goes back to work.

Joey has news for them when they gather around for dinner, and from the first word Jason's expecting the _ very _ worst.

_ Adeline, _ Joey starts to sign, only to be interrupted by Slade _ growling. _

"You're not a dog," Bruce chides. "Go on please Joey."

_ Adeline mentioned that she was moving, _ Joey signs. _ She accepted a position that fit her skillset better. She said she's been holding herself back in order to stay in town, but now there's no reason to stay. _

Joseph's grave, Jason guesses, but the idea of it throws him off a little bit.

"Does she feel like he's not... there, anymore?" Jason asks. He supposes it's true. Grant's body isn't there anymore. The grave is empty.

_ She says there's no point if he's not there, _ Joey explains. _ So she's going to move. _

Slade doesn't say anything, but he seems distracted, as if he hadn't given the idea much thought.

_ I asked her about the headstone, and she said Slade could do what he wants, _ Joey adds. _ I was thinking- _

Joey doesn't get a chance to finish the thought before Slade interrupts.

"Yes," he blurst. "I'll go pick it up tonight."

"It's seven in the evening," Bruce says. "You're not leaving _ tonight." _

"Then I'll leave in the morning," Slade says. "I'll pick it up and bring it back here."

Jason can't blame him for his enthusiasm. Slade doesn't have any of Joseph's things left, and the grave was his last reminder of his son. Even with the body gone, the headstone still has sentimental value, and he's sure Slade would love to have it close at hand, rather than far enough away it takes a full day just to drive straight there and straight back."

"I want to go," Damian chimes in. "He would have been my brother, after all."

Jason feels the same way. Not just that he wants to go, but the idea that Joseph—not Joey, who feels like a very different and distinct person—was a brother they never got to meet.

_ I'd like to go too, _ Joey signs. _ For my own reasons, though. _

"We'll leave tomorrow-"

"We can't leave tomorrow!" Damian protests. "I have class, and Jason promised to bring the cowl."

Slade grumbles to himself, and it's clear to Jason that if Slade had his way he'd be leaving right then and there.

"We'll leave tomorrow afternoon, after class," Slade says. "We'll spend the night over there and then drive back in the morning. Make a trip of it."

"I can't go," Bruce points out. "I'm supposed to be on a work call Tuesday morning."

"We're going to need a second car," Slade says. "I can't take four people _ and _ the stone-"

"I'll stay here," Jason volunteers. "Then you can fit everything."

He likes the idea of the three of them getting some quality time without him. Joey and Damian have been bonding over art, but it feels like Joey and Slade haven't gotten as much time as he'd like.

Slade seems to consider it, and then shrugs.

"Alright," he says. "Monday afternoon, then."

Jason will miss the three of them, but he sure as hell isn't going to miss spending more than twenty hours in the car.


	81. Chapter 81

They spend that night together as well, and when Jason wakes in a tangle of arms, he feels... good. Satisfied. Even though they didn't do anything, it still feels  _ good _ to wake up beside Joey and watch him sleep.

He looks peaceful, and Jason leans over, kissing his forehead before getting out of bed.

Breakfast is slightly marred by the fact that Slade is so  _ obviously _ impatient. He's like a kid who knows he's being taken to the candy store in a few hours, his leg bouncing as he eats. It's clear he's hoping Damian will change his mind, but Jason also knows that Damian might actually be more stubborn than even  _ Bruce, _ and the odds of him giving up a chance to flex his vigilante background in front of his classmates are about the same as the odds of aliens invading on their way to class.

So, not likely to happen, but within the realm of possibility.

Joey spends the day in his room, and Slade spends all of thirty minutes packing an overnight bag before starting to pace back and forth like a caged animal.

"Bruce!" Jason begs. "Please, contain your husband."

"Sure, pass the buck onto  _ me," _ Bruce says with a groan, but does end up wrangling Slade, dragging him away to do who knows what.

Jason doesn't care as long as he's not making a nuisance of himself.

He grabs a stand for the cowl, making sure it'll stand up properly and look nice for the kids. Just propping it up isn't going to look nice, and he wants it to look at least  _ sort _ of professional. When he's done, he packs it up in a box and goes to load it into the car.

Jon and Damian are already waiting.

"Is it time to go?" Jon asks, and Jason's sure he'd be bouncing if he wasn't actually floating just off the ground.

They'll be almost thirty minutes early if they leave right then, but the alternative seems terrible, so Jason shrugs and decides they might as well leave just then.

Once upon a time he was practically a regular at the class, rotating carpool duty with the Kents or whoever else was available. He knows the teacher, a nice young woman who clearly enjoys teaching, and while he always got along with her  _ before, _ that was back before everyone knew he was Batman.

Things are definitely different with that ball in play.

Jon and Damian scrambled out of the car before he's even fully parked, bolting across the parking lot into the community center and leaving Jason to grab the box. They're early enough that there's almost no one there, and Jason manages to make it all the way to the classroom before anyone spots him.

"Sorry," Jason says as he shoves the door open with his elbow. "We figured it was better to get here early."

Madeline's sitting on her desk, looking over the work Jon and Damian are showing her, but she glances up when Jason comes in, looking surprised.

"See?!" Damian says. "I told you he'd bring it!"

"Damian can be very convincing," Jason grumbles as he heads into the room. "Where do you want it?"

She has him set it up right in the middle of her desk, and then Jason grabs a spot on the far side of the classroom for the door, playing with his phone as Damian and Jon talk.

Every single person who comes in oohs and ahhhs over the cowl, both students and their guardians included. It's apparently fascinating to them, and Damian stands right near it, looking unbelievably smug.

Jason mostly keeps to himself, and for the most part people give him space. They seem to understand that he doesn't want to be crowded, and he spends the time before the class doodling. His art's still awful, but he supposes it  _ has _ improved from how it was when Damian first started classes.

Madeline starts the class, immediately addressing the elephant in the room. They don't spend as much time on warm up sketches before getting to the  _ main event, _ and Jason catches himself sketching the cowl himself before he realizes he's thinking about Joey's painting.

He wonders if it's done. He hopes it's done. He wants to see it, and it feels like a constant weight. What if it's wrong? What if he screwed it up somehow? He knows it's irrational, but it's hard not to think about all the ways it might have gone wrong.

"Stop stressing," Damian chides him as everyone works. "It's obvious to everyone."

"Quiet you," Jason mutters. "Get back to work."

Jason keeps waiting for some crisis to happen, but in the end the class finishes without incident. Some people stare, but no one harasses him, and Jason's able to carefully return the cowl to its box without anyone trying to grab it or anything stupid like that.

"We shouldn't linger," Damian says. "Stepfather wishes to leave as soon as possible."

"I noticed," Jason says. "Hard not to."

"Wait, where are you going?" Jon asks as they head to the car. "Are you going to be gone long?"

"Only a day," Damian says. "Jason will be around if you have need of anything."

"Thanks for volunteering me," Jason says, reaching over to mess up Damian's hair before he can protest.

"As if you wouldn't make yourself available if they needed it!"

"You're still supposed to  _ ask,"  _ Jason points out. "Everyone have fun?"

"It was fun," Jon confirms. "Waaaaay better than school."

Jason listens to Jon complain about school, and notes the way Damian seems to hang off his every word. Jason suspects that Damian  _ wants _ to go to school, but there are so many difficulties that it doesn't seem terribly plausible.

Maybe next year will be different.

Joey meets them at the door, and Jason's more surprised it isn't Slade, come to snatch Damian up and shove him in the trunk.

_ Can I borrow you for a minute Jason? _ He signs, and Jason doesn't see why not, so he follows him along. It takes him longer than it should for him to realize they're heading to Joey's bedroom, and he hesitates just outside the door.

"Everything alright?"

_ I finished, _ Joey signs.  _ I wanted to show you before I leave. _

He finished. There's only one thing he could be talking about, and Jason's sure his heart skips a beat as Joey takes his hand, pulling him into his room.

The bed's been shoved over towards the wall, and Joey's apparently taken advantage of the fact that he's not  _ sleeping _ in the room to use it as an art studio. There's a dropcloth set up across the floor and an easel set up in such a way that Jason can't see the painting from the doorway, but Joey carefully takes him around the room so he can look.

_ Don't mind the mess, _ Joey signs. It's clear he only just finished, because the paint is still wet, but Jason finally gets a look at it just the same.

It's beautiful. It feels strange to call it  _ beautiful  _ because it's a painting of him, but that's what it is. The painting itself is Batman sitting on the edge of a building's roof, staring down over Gotham. His hands are clasped in his lap, and the expression is one Jason can only describe as longing.

It's an amazing painting, and made almost surreal by the fact that he knows what went into it. He was never quite in that pose, never sat on that roof. It's an entirely fictional scene, pieced together by a master of his craft.

It could hang on the wall of any gallery in the country without hesitation.

"Joey," Jason says, unable to tear his eyes away. "This is - I don't even know what to say."

He's overwhelmed just staring at it. Just knowing that it's  _ there. _ That it's  _ him. _ It feels touching in a way it probably shouldn't be, and Joey wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Jason turns, and Joey signs to him as he watches.

_ I wanted you to be able to see yourself the way everyone else sees you, _ Joey signs, reaching up to cup Jason's face in his hands before pulling him in for a kiss.

It's a soft, gentle thing.

"I love you," Jason says when the kiss finally breaks.

It's the second time he's said it, but the first time he's  _ meant  _ it.

"I'm not just - this isn't just me blurting it out. You make me so happy..."

Joey doesn't sign. He doesn't speak through the earpiece Jason's wearing. Instead he mouths the words Jason hoped to hear.

_ I love you too. _

Jason pulls him into a hug, burying his face against Joey's shoulder and taking a deep breath. He can do it. He's not going to cry, even if he's happy. He's going to hold it together.

Someone bangs on the door and Jason jumps, jerking back as his face goes red.

"Screw around on your own time!" Slade yells through the door. "We've got places to go, and I'm leaving in five minutes with or without you."

Joey's doubled over in silent laughter, and Jason lets out a groan, dragging his hand down his face.

"You'd better get going," he says. "He's serious about that."

Joey straightens up, leaning in for one last kiss.

_ See you tomorrow afternoon, _ he signs.  _ Try not to miss me too much. _

"No promises," Jason says as Joey leaves his room.

He doesn't leave right away. Instead, he catches himself staring at the painting again, eyes roaming over the stars and the cityscape and  _ him. _

He sees himself the way others see him for the first time and is left in awe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't panic! I know a lot of people are going 'THAT'S THE END???' But I felt like this was a tonally a good part to stop. In a lot of ways, Jason's journey has come to an end - just look at all that growth!
> 
> More importantly: I really, _really_ hate changing POV mid-fic, and the fic works best with a POV change up ahead. So there's a next part! A next part that'll wrap up some more loose ends and (hopefully, although I say this every time) bring things to a close with a full and proper epilogue.
> 
> But we've got one more thing to get through first. 😉


End file.
